


This is the Way You'll Remember Me

by HoodiesandComputers



Series: Olicity AUs [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - No Arrow, Alternative Universe - No Island, BAMF Felicity Smoak, Douchy Oliver, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Felicity as Elizabeth!, Gen, Laurel as Jane, Modern AU, Oliver as Darcy duh, P&P AU, Prideful Felicity, Ray Palmer as Mr. Collins, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Roy Harper as Wickham, Tommy as Bingley, pride and prejudice - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoodiesandComputers/pseuds/HoodiesandComputers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Pride and Prejudice. “It is a truth universally acknowledged that no one touched or breathed the same air as Felicity Smoak’s computer, unless it is Felicity Smoak herself.” Felicity's an IT consultant at Queen Consolidated, determined to get a promotion and rise up the ranks with zero distractions... until Oliver Queen comes along. With Oliver back and parading around QC's hallways, and Tommy and Laurel getting closer, Felicity does her best to ignore Oliver's presence in her work and personal life. But it's easier said than done. Olicity, Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a long time coming! It’s my first multi-chapter Olicity fic, so bear with me. :) Like I said, the story is inspired by P&P, so things will be different. I also want to thank Nocturnalrites and awriterincowboyboots for being tremendously helpful during this process. You two are amazing, and I couldn't have done this without you! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and any other mistakes are by me. :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [share on tumblr if you liked it!](http://hoodiesandcomputers.tumblr.com/post/90110201570/this-is-the-way-youll-remember-me)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that no one touched or breathed the same air as Felicity Smoak’s computer, unless it is Felicity Smoak herself.  

However, it’s a truth only a few people know about, and when she comes back to her apartment only to find her laptop on, she’s livid. Perhaps not exactly livid – it’s more of a panic inducing moment followed by extreme nervousness and rage, coupled with an irrational fear of the computer running away and trampling over her, most likely stemmed from her kangaroo phobia.

Regardless, it’s her computer and unfortunately her roommate, Laurel Lance, _clearly_ forgot how much it means to her. Her baby is more important than food and sleep, providing her such comfort and intense feelings she knows no dish.  Nothing could compare to how safe and dangerous she feels with her trusty laptop on hand, and Laurel’s body hovering over it absolutely terrifies her. 

“Sorry!” Laurel softly shuts the lid and flops back on their shared sofa, a look of innocence plastered on her face. “It’s – I left my charger at Starbucks, and I had to apply for jobs, and I thought I could maybe guess your password?“ She sighs and collapses on the couch, warily looking at Felicity. “Please don’t be mad.” 

“Oh, I’m not mad.” Felicity steps forward and dumps her house key on the table, slowly inching towards her computer and snatching it away as fast as she can. Hugging it close to her chest, she eyes Laurel and points a finger at her. “This is your first and only warning.”

Laurel rolls her eyes and smiles as she raises her right hand and promises, “This will be the one and only time I’ll touch it.”

Felicity sighs in relief and sits next to Laurel, the couch dipping from their combined weight. She opens the lid and quickly types her password, asking, “Still haven’t heard anything?”

“No,” Laurel groans. She covers her face with her hands and sighs loudly. “I never thought I would be an unemployed lawyer for eight months.”

“They don’t know a good lawyer when they see one,” Felicity reassures her.

Laurel scoffs. “I wish that was the case.

A grin creeps up on Felicity’s lips once she relaxes on the couch. As she begins surfing the Web, she can’t help but reminisce about their time spent together. It’s been nearly six years since they’ve met – Felicity was a simple nerdy MIT girl who chanced upon a cool group of kids who had friends at Boston University, one of which was named Laurel Lance. They didn’t start off as friends, but as they got to know one another their friendship solidified into something much better, and here they stand, living a decent life together in Starling City.

Felicity’s grown quite close to Laurel’s family, the Lances; Laurel tends to have a big sister complex surrounding her, and she took Felicity under her wing. Laurel’s father, Quentin, is loud and caring, an extreme softie when it comes to his daughters, while his wife, Dinah Lance, is a refined and polished lady, her warm hugs reminding Felicity of her mother. Laurel’s little sister, Sara, is an absolute firecracker, always getting into trouble but continuously providing laughs.

They’ve made her feel like she’s a part of the family, and for that she’s forever grateful. There are times when she feels she’s imposing on their shared moments, but they always make a point to include her, no matter how awkward it makes for her. She’s slowly coming to accept this is going to be her life now, and it makes her happy in all the ways she never thought possible. 

As for Laurel, she’s the confident and friend, dragging Felicity along to parties and networking meetings whenever they have the chance. When it comes to these two there’s no backing down from anything, a sentiment they share. It feels good having someone on her side, and the emptiness Felicity had grown accustomed to dissipates as she spends more time with Laurel.

Currently, Felicity works as a consultant at Queen Consolidated, traveling often and visiting QC’s various branches in different cities and countries, advising and teaching its employees how to use the programs she and her team designed. The gig pays well, and she’s happy with her current situation.  Her skills made her climb the ranks in a short amount of years, and by next year she might get another promotion, one which may bring her salary significantly up. There aren’t many things Felicity’s proud of, but this is one of them.

 Life is . . . good.

 “Hey, I brought snacks from home. Do you want anything?” Laurel asks. She hops over to the kitchen and produces Twinkies and brownies, laying them out on the counter. “If you don’t, I’ll eat them myself. I’m always hungry.”

Without thinking, Felicity stands up and softly pads over to the small kitchen. She watches Laurel apprehensively – the lack of job prospects was getting to her best friend. She could see the frustration clouding Laurel, but as of late it was turning into resignation. More often than not Felicity found several snacks and movies littered about in their apartment, a sad reminder of all that hard work Laurel did, slowly withering away.

Taking the brownie box and loudly ripping it open, Felicity glances up at Laurel and probes, “What movies did you watch today?” She shoves a brownie in her mouth, the thick chocolate making it difficult for her to chomp down and swallow _. Jesus._

Humming and breaking a piece of her Twinkie, she tips her head to side and contemplates. “I was planning on watching 80’s movies I’ve never seen, but then I thought I should start watching Breaking Bad.” She pops the piece in her mouth and chews loudly, her head still in deep thought. “ _Then_ I realized it would make me want to change career paths and be a DEA agent, so I started watching Law  & Order.” Almost immediately her nose wrinkles in distaste, and she drops the Twinkie on the counter, sighing. “But it made me sad.”

Felicity slows down on her chewing and eyes Laurel, unsure of how to continue on the conversation. She doesn’t want to tell her she went to the HR department and asked if they were hiring any lawyers. Cindy, the HR supervisor, was happy about the suggestion, but once Felicity showed her a picture of Laurel, Cindy brushed her aside and said she was “too pretty.”

Shrugging, Felicity takes another bite from her brownie and suggests, “Maybe you should stick with Dora the Explorer.”

“Ha ha.” Laurel's certainly not amused. “What should I do? I passed my bar _eight_ months ago, and I haven’t heard back from anyone.” Throwing her hands in the air she dramatically adds, “What did I ever do to deserve this punishment?”

Desperately trying to hold back her tongue, Felicity closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. There are some . . . tendencies Laurel displayed, and it didn’t bode too well with her. Felicity grew up in bad circumstances, fighting tooth and nail to get here. She hardly complained – she’s beyond grateful for the way things turned out, but Laurel dealt with different conditions.  Her best friend didn’t have _everything_ handed to her, but she occasionally felt she was the victim, when in fact it was reality catching up to her. Still, she chooses not to say anything, knowing it would make matters worse. Besides, Felicity couldn’t stand Laurel moping around.

Suddenly feeling tired, Felicity kicks off her heels and stretches her back, ignoring Laurel’s reflections. “I’m going to take a nap. See you in a couple of hours.” She doesn’t miss Laurel rolling her eyes at her flimsy excuse.

She turns and heads for the bedroom, not paying Laurel any attention. “When you wake, you’ll know where to find me!” Felicity hears.

Groaning and absolutely not prepared to listen to Laurel’s wallowing, she yells back, “Cool! Save me a spot!”

“Sure thing! Right next to me on the couch!”

 

* * *

 

 “Did you hear about Mr. Queen’s son visiting QC?”

Yawning and glancing up from her glasses, Felicity questions, “What about his son?”

McKenna Lucas, the department’s secretary, clicks her tongue and leans on the desk, getting ready to spill the gossip. “He’s coming back after a five year stint in Hong Kong and Moscow.” Sticking a piece of gum in her mouth she adds, “Some say he’s reformed himself after his father died, and he is quite the catch.” She raises an eyebrow. “Plus he’s got his eyes set on the CFO position, so he’s going to be even _more_ loaded.”

Felicity snorts. “Good looking or not, I still remember when he peed on a cop car and made the headlines every single day.” She leans back in her chair and muses, “You know, I kind of miss those days. Oliver Queen’s antics made watching TMZ surprisingly fun.”

“ _You’re_ no fun,” McKenna admonishes. She shrugs and glances at Felicity’s calendar before asking, “Hey, weren’t you and Laurel planning a vacation next week?”

Felicity sighs and spins in her chair before responding. “Well, I have to head out to Metropolis in two months, and Laurel’s being . . .”

“Annoying?”

Guilt courses through her, because yes, Laurel _could_ be annoying. Not bad annoying but older sister annoying. While it could be endearing, as of late it’s turned into a nuisance. Laurel needs someone to vent to – which Felicity doesn’t mind – but she’s not equipped to handle emotional issues that don’t deal with immature mothers and money problems. What’s going on with Laurel is tame compared to a multitude of other things. Still, she doesn’t want to spend her limited time in Star City getting frustrated for something as silly as this.

Nervous and unwilling to admit she feels that way, Felicity chews on her lip and waits. McKenna eyes her carefully and slightly judgmentally, her exotic facial features smoothing over and getting ready to call her out. Giving up, Felicity exhales and groans. “Does it make me a bad person if I _do_ find her annoying? She wasn’t always like this. And I get why she’s feeling this way – she worked nonstop at a nonprofit place with no law degree, and now that she’s an actual lawyer no one wants to hire her.” Felicity taps her foot for a moment and muses, “I did tell her to get into IT. People are always hiring computer nerds.”

“Please, after seeing how much you work on your computers and the endless hours dedicated to having no social life?” Felicity’s brows furrow at McKenna’s statement. “I’ll stick with my secretary job, thank you very much.”

“Fine." McKenna smiles knowingly and Felicity continues, “I’ll stick with my totally awesome job where I got to live in Singapore for five months.”

“Oh, _now_ you’re showing off.”

Sniggering, Felicity raises an invisible glass. “Can’t help it!”

McKenna chuckles heartedly and adds, “And no, it doesn’t make you bad person if you feel that way about Laurel. Sometimes . . . things change, and we can’t help it.”

Her happy mood suddenly disappears. “Yeah. Thanks, McKenna.” The secretary smiles fondly, tapping on the door before leaving. For some reason Felicity starts to feel uneasy about something that has yet to come, and she’s not prepared for what’s to come. 

* * *

It’s eight in the evening, and during this time Felicity prefers to stay indoors, curled up with a bottle of wine and ice cream. Tonight, however, Laurel is insistent they, McKenna, and another friend – Jessica – go out. At the present Laurel is completely dressed whereas Felicity lounges on the sofa.

She doesn’t want to go. At all. She would rather talk through the night or do something silly, not get buzzed and spend an hour dressing up for no one. Going to the clubs was – is – never her thing, because more often than not Felicity spends the rest of the night clutching a porcelain throne in the most glorious manner.

Right now Laurel’s not taking her excuses, and as she tugs on Felicity’s arm she finds herself giving in.

“Please?” Laurel quits and towers over Felicity, her heels digging holes in their carpet as her hands rest on her hips. “You’re always traveling, and when you’re here you’re tired.”

“I know,” Felicity moans. “It’s just – I feel I’m too old for that . . . stuff,” she finishes, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. Clubbing is so juvenile.

Laurel gasps. “ _I’m_ twenty-eight – does that make me old?”

“No, not at all,” she responds awkwardly. Her friend clicks her tongue in irritation, still waiting for Felicity to get up. “Can we just make a fort and have a sleepover instead?” 

Scoffing, Laurel lunges for Felicity and pulls her up. She yelps at the sudden movement and cries, “Ow, my arm!”

“Who cares?” Laurel snaps. She’s got Felicity all the way up, and once Laurel starts pushing her to walk forward, Felicity retaliates by putting no pressure and collapsing in her arms. “Ugh, Felicity!” Laurel huffs behind. She giggles at her childish act.

“You told me to get up, and now I’m up.” Felicity steps back; she’s standing on her own now. Turning around and facing Laurel, she places her hands on her shoulders and deadpans, “Pushing me into the bathroom won’t work.”

Laurel swipes Felicity’s hands off and crosses her arms. Whatever eye shadow Laurel carefully put on glitters under artificial light, and Felicity suddenly feels terrible she’s being moody. “I may be twenty-eight, but you’re acting like a twelve year old.” Something flickers across Laurel’s face, and her lips turn upward, forming a devilish grin. “Besides, when was the last time you slept with someone?”

Balking at her statement, Felicity stutters as she tries to find the right way to tell Laurel it's none of her business. “OK, that is a very inappropriate question!” There was no way in hell Felicity was going to tell her how nonexistent her love life was. The least she can do is embellish it.

Clearing her throat and sticking her head up in defiance, Felicity lies, “And I have had sex. With foreign men. Lots of them. Bearded, not bearded, short and tall. All _kinds_ of foreign men.”

“Really.”

“Really. “ Laurel’s not convinced. “Maybe I would rather go clubbing where the men are well-behaved and handsome, not gross and American.” She stops for a moment, unaware of how truthful that statement is.

Groaning at Felicity’s excuse, Laurel states, “That is some serious bullshit, Felicity.” Out of nowhere, Laurel nearly stomps her foot and cries, “Look, if you had a social life, then I wouldn’t have asked! C’mon Smoaky, just once. Please?”

Hearing Laurel plead breaks her. Frankly, there’s no reason for her _not_ to go, and truth be told she does want to get slightly drunk. Work has been tiring and time-consuming for Felicity, and the least she can do is hangout with her roommate and friend.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity acquiesces. “Fine." Laurel squeals in delight, but before she can drag Felicity in her room, she warns, “You win this round, but I won’t be easily swayed next time.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

* * *

 Loud music pumps through the club, creating a massive headache for Felicity, which will only get worse once she starts drinking. She, McKenna, Laurel and Jessica have been sitting in a booth for the past forty-five minutes, idly chatting and avoiding dancing altogether. Felicity would do anything to prevent random strangers press their pelvis against her body without permission, and that means drinking martinis while sitting down.

Seeing that it’s a Friday night the club is packed, the air humid and a cacophony of drunken laughter and electronic music floating about. Felicity sighs and leans back on the booth, incredibly uninterested. Sensing her boredom, McKenna smiles and questions, “How’s the project coming along?”

Shrugging, Felicity takes a sip of her drink and sighs. “It’s a bit difficult. We’re trying to reinvent how credit card information goes through an entire system, and basically we’re starting from scratch.” McKenna politely nods her head as Felicity rambles on. “The team is trying to create a new channel to put all that information through, and if we don’t figure it out, someone else will.” Suddenly self-conscious about her rambling, Felicity blushes and waves it off. “Sorry, I just get excited when I talk about it. And it’s been hard.”

“Don’t apologize!” McKenna takes a sip from her daiquiri and smiles affectionately. “I like that you’re passionate about your job.” Inhaling deeply and relaxing on the booth, she adds, “I started working at QC when I was twenty, and here I am at twenty-seven. I’ve seen more men in that department than I have in my lifetime. It’s about time a woman as smart as you shakes things up.”

Warmth blossoms inside Felicity’s chest and she grins, feeling proud. “Thanks. Now if guys would stop getting intimidated by my wealth of knowledge . . .”

McKenna scoffs loudly. “Boys are so immature. Don’t waste your time on those who can’t handle someone as wonderful as you.”

“I second that,” quips Laurel. She scoots closer towards Felicity, Jessica in tow.  Smiling brightly, she wraps an arm around Felicity’s neck and begs, “Now that we agree men are stupid, what do you think about getting on the dance floor?”

“Uh, no.” The moment she finishes saying it, all three women protest loudly, begging her to come along. At one point both Laurel and Jessica are pulling her arms, and when she can’t take it any more Felicity finally relents.  “OK, OK I’ll go!”

All four of them head out to the dance floor, and before long Felicity finds herself dancing along absentmindedly, moving to the rhythm and laughing as she does so. It feels good to finally let go, and despite her pumps pinching on her toes Felicity succumbs to the sensations.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been, but eventually she tires and decides more alcohol will help. “I’m going to the bar. Anyone want something?”

“Ooh, I do!” Jessica replies. She steps away from Laurel’s clutches, and grabs onto Felicity’s arm, leaning in close to her ear. “At the rate Laurel’s going, she’s going to be super wasted. I haven’t seen her like this in a long time,” she notes. A brief flicker of anxiousness gets to Felicity, but once she turns around and finds Laurel safely dancing with McKenna she calms down just a bit. There’s no need to worry.

Felicity chooses not to respond and instead leads the way, dragging Jessica with her. “So, how’s work for you?” A large man bumps into her and fails to apologize. “Rude,” she mutters under her breath.

“Huh?” Jessica yells back. A man suddenly distracts her friend with his good looks, and Felicity does her best to yank Jessica away. “What were you saying?”

Felicity repeats, “How’s work?” Talking in clubs could be such a nuisance, and for some reason there’s a lot of traffic around the bar. “It’s impossible to walk here,” she notes.

Jessica nods in agreement. “There are a lot of people bunched over on the right. “ Felicity stops walking so she can get a look, and at the same time Jessica cranes her neck upward, sneaking a peek.

“Do you see a place where we can walk through without getting pushed over?”

She shakes her head. “Not at the moment, no.” Jessica places a hand on Felicity’s arm, halting her steps. “Seems like people are surrounding a couple of guys. Might be famous, ” she observes while standing on her tiptoes.

Thankful for her five-inch heels, Felicity follows suit, and sure enough she finds two handsome men flocked by a plethora of women. “Or maybe it’s their inhumanly good looks that’s garnering a lot of attention,” Felicity says drily. She’s about ready to make another run for the bar when Jessica suddenly gasps in excitement. “What is it?”

Her friend is apparently too busy to respond, but when Felicity asks again Jessica excitedly tells her, “It’s Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn!”

“Am I supposed to find this interesting?” She _would_ be lying if she isn’t a little bit curious, but she’s not going to waste her time waiting around to see if she can get a glance. Now that Felicity’s developed a healthy buzz, dancing seems to be a fairly good option as opposed to clamoring around Tommy and Oliver.

Jessica playfully pushes Felicity and gushes, “No one’s seen Oliver in five years, and Tommy is absolutely adorable.” Jessica cranes her neck forward a bit and abruptly decides, “Let’s go say hi!”

She does _not_ care about these celebrities who never worked a day in their lives. “Are you crazy? I’m not going to push my way through just to meet a couple of billionaire playboys who happen to have tons of money and looks like Greek gods.” There are more pressing concerns than meeting party boys, such as trying to have a bit of fun on her first night out in months. And honestly, Felicity doesn’t understand the appeal.

She’s about to say another scathing remark when Laurel unexpectedly appears, wrapping both arms around Felicity. “What’s the holdup?” Laurel’s cheeks are flushed from drinking and dancing, and now that she’s being unnaturally touchy-feely it must mean she’s had a few to drink.

McKenna comes from behind and stands next to Felicity. “Yeah, where are the drinks?”

“There’s a holdup because Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn are here, and Jessica wants to say hi,” Felicity explains.

Both McKenna and Laurel’s eyes go round, and Laurel squeals in delight.

“We should definitely speak to them – I haven’t seen Oliver in five years. He was always very nice to me when he would visit QC,” McKenna casually mentions.

Three pairs of eyes are suddenly fixated on her, and she fidgets under their glances. McKenna never told Felicity she met him. “What? I’ve been working at QC for seven years. I was bound to talk to him at some point.” 

Suddenly determined, Laurel hooks an arm around Felicity’s and Jessica’s, and tips her head a little up. “We’re going to go meet them.”

“I’m right with you,” McKenna pipes.

Sensing her fight is futile, Felicity sighs dramatically and motions for Laurel to lead the way. Her friend jumps a little, and everyone – minus Felicity – excitedly walk towards the boys. There’s a small hint of nervousness getting to Felicity; she doesn’t have social anxiety, but her unfiltered mouth often lands her in hot water.

The closer they arrive the more they realize it’s impossible to get within a ten-foot radius. Needless to say Felicity’s relieved, and she not so subtly suggests, “Maybe we should head back?”

“You are _so_ transparent,” Jessica jokingly responds. She flips her ebony hair and breathes deeply, preparing herself for the big introduction. “We have to go. This is the one and only time we’ll ever meet them, and besides, between the four of us they’re bound to be interested in at least, well, me.”

McKenna snorts. “Presumptuous much?” Laurel cackles and Felicity can’t help but smile widely. “Let me introduce you three since _I_ already know Oliver.”

“Lead the way, Your Highness,” Felicity mockingly responds. Laurel and Jessica snicker but McKenna chooses to ignore it, and instead confidently takes them to Oliver and Tommy.  The closer they get the more glamorous everyone seems, and Felicity feels uncomfortable surrounded by wealth and arrogance. They _are_ at an upscale club – if there even is a thing called upscale clubs – but she didn’t expect people to take it so seriously. Her friends, however, don’t seem to mind at all.

Soon enough they’ve gotten near to where there’s a half-formed line to meet the guys. Halting her steps, McKenna motions for the girls to stay back and wait for a moment. There are only a couple of people blocking their way, but Felicity can’t pretend she doesn’t notice two very handsome men smiling and laughing. An abrupt thought crosses her mind: Oliver is, in some way, her boss. Wouldn’t this be unprofessional?

Panic hits her, and without thinking she spins and worriedly tells Laurel, “This isn’t a good idea – I work for Oliver’s company! Meeting him at a club is unprofessional!” She glances back and thankfully sees the men are still occupied. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Laurel takes a step forward and crowds Felicity, inadvertently pushing her towards Oliver and Tommy. “If you make a good impression he might mention you to a senior manager and get you a higher paying job.”

“I don’t need Oliver Queen, resident idiot and self-proclaimed panty dropper, to help me get a job." Felicity opens her mouth to say something else when Laurel mouths her to shut up, grabs her shoulders and spins her right back around, putting Felicity face to face with the man she just insulted.

 _Perfect_.

She’s not sure if he heard anything she said. Nonetheless, her skin erupts in flames and Felicity finds herself unable to concentrate. McKenna side-eyes Felicity, silently telling her she heard everything. Guilt crashes onto her and all she wants to do is run away. _God_ she could be extremely careless. If she was worried about meeting Oliver in an unprofessional environment, then she should definitely be worried about losing her job. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath.

“Mm hmm,” Laurel whispers.  She’s absolutely done for. 

As Felicity nervously concentrates on anything besides the two men in front of her, she hears McKenna shyly ask, “Oliver?”

Still focusing on the ground, Felicity’s completely unprepared for a booming and cheerful voice. “McKenna? I can’t believe it!”

Felicity’s gaze snaps up and focuses on McKenna, her friend, hugging Oliver Queen.  When they pull back Oliver beams at McKenna, and she finds herself zeroing in on their absurd situation and Oliver Queen.

He’s good-looking – perhaps more than that, but she’s not willing to admit it. The suit Oliver’s wearing is pitch black but fitted immaculately on him. His stance screams confidence and arrogance, and Felicity finds herself marginally irritated. He’s got a small amount of stubble peppering his very defined jawline, and his cerulean eyes, blaze with intensity. For a moment Felicity thinks he’s not the vapid man he’s reputed to be.

“I was worried you were one of my exes for a second!”

Nope, he’s still as idiotic as he always was. 

McKenna laughs and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. Taking quick peeks at Jessica and Laurel, she sees Jessica trying her hardest not to faint, while Laurel calmly observes the scene unfolding despite the amount of drinks she’s had. _If I could take a page from Laurel’s How Not to Make a Fool Out of Myself handbook, that would be fantastic._

Standing on Oliver’s right is Tommy; he’s got the same charm as Oliver does, but he looks much more casual and friendly. His hair is a deep shade of brown, his baby blue eyes glimmering under the artificial light. He’s definitely the funny, but less famous, of the two. It’s obvious Tommy looks up to Oliver, but at this very moment he’s staring at Laurel as if she fell from heaven.

“How’ve you been?” McKenna inquires.

“Good, excellent,” Oliver replies enthusiastically. “I’m having a some trouble getting used to American ways after spending time overseas.” His eyes sweep over their little group and he asks, “Who are your friends?”

“Oh, right – that’s Jessica,” McKenna starts off as she points around the group, “Laurel, and Felicity.”

“Nice to meet you.” Oliver nods in acknowledgement instead of shaking hands, and as he does so his eyes touch on each person’s face in turn. For a second Felicity forgets about the insult she blurted out, but once she does she blushes immediately. She still has no idea if he heard her insult, so she prays he didn’t hear anything, but now that her face is turning in to a tomato she knows she’s attracting the wrong kind of attention. Oliver Queen might think she’s in love with him, which is definitely _not_ the case. 

Tommy is the first to extend his hand out and says, “I’m Tommy, by the way.” He shakes Jessica’s hand first, then McKenna’s, and when it’s Laurel’s turn he beams shyly.  It’s kind of cute how nervous he is to simply shake Laurel’s hand, but her best friend – completely unperturbed – returns the gesture without a single afterthought.

Once he reaches Felicity she grins and says, “Nice to meet you, Tommy.” He looks pleased with her response, and she can’t help but want to give him a hug. He seems sweet.

“How was Hong Kong and Moscow?” McKenna asks. “I’m happy you’re back, Oliver. Starling City hasn’t been the same since you’ve left."

Oliver leans forward. “Thank you.” He fidgets with his glass and continues. “It was . . . different, but I’m glad to be reunited with my partner in crime,” Oliver says while clapping a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and shaking him. They laugh simultaneously, and a little bit of Tommy’s drink spills from the enthusiastic gesture.

Felicity’s about to come up with a lame excuse to leave – this _is_ turning out to be exceptionally boring – but Jessica livens it up a bit and asks, “So you’re not here to become CFO?”

She can’t help but snort loudly; Oliver gives her a quick and puzzled look before he returns his attention back to Jessica. Leave it to Jessica to bluntly ask someone she just met if the tabloid rumors are true. “Uh,” he begins, “I – well, it _is_ my family’s company, so . . .”

In a strange turn of events, Jessica is the one who made the conversation go into awkward territory, not Felicity. She’s pleasantly surprised and proud of herself for not screwing things up. And, it seems as if she’s incredibly lucky tonight, considering that Oliver has yet to mention her outburst.

“God, Jessica,” Laurel says. “That’s a corporate lawyer talking over there,” she explains to Tommy and Oliver as she attempts to clean up Jessica’s faux pas. Jessica simply shrugs and idly looks around.

“What about you?” Tommy asks Laurel. He’s entirely concentrated on her, something Felicity finds incredibly charming, and for a split moment she can see the two of them being head over heels about one another.

Laurel takes a deep breath. Felicity can almost hear her thoughts, and she knows Laurel’s still sensitive about not getting a job yet. “I’m . . . in the process of searching,” she responds vaguely.

Tommy’s eyes pop and he excitedly offers, “Oh, my father’s company is –“

“Don’t even bother,” Jessica cuts in. “She’s not into the sneaky and slimy world of corporations.”

In an instant Tommy’s face falls, but he recovers quickly. “Yep. Corporate . . . level stuff is . . .” He exhales and makes a hand movement akin to an explosion, indicating that corporate stuff is indeed stuff.

“Basically, he doesn’t know how to tell you he knows _zilch_ about law,” Oliver cuts in.

Tommy opens his mouth in protest. “Hey, I know some! Just not all." Felicity quickly glances at Laurel and sees her crack a smile. Perhaps Tommy’s ignorance will work in his favor.

“Well Oliver, Felicity actually works at QC as an IT consultant,” McKenna supplies. She beams at Felicity, almost as proud as a mother, and adds, “She’s one of the brightest consultants at your company.”

A deep flush creeps up on Felicity’s face. She doesn’t like to brag about her talents, mainly because people didn’t find it interesting, and she would rather let her work speak for itself. It’s not that people didn’t appreciate it, but they had a difficult time reaching the same level of enthusiasm as Felicity. It makes her self-conscious for some reason, and she chooses not to speak about it to those who wouldn’t understand how _much_ it means to her. 

“Oh” is all Oliver says. Once again he gives a polite nod, and Felicity can practically feel his disinterest. “Cool. What are you working on right now?” he asks.

Felicity gathers whatever strength she has left to smile – she can’t help it. She’s aware she’s judging him far more than anyone else she’s ever judged, but he _has_ been more attentive than she expected Oliver to be. Although she does not want anyone, especially Oliver Queen, to advance her career for her, Felicity can see he’s serious about his company. And while she doesn’t plan on seeing him again – employee or not – she _is_ proud of her work.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity begins, “I can’t really get into the semantics, but we’re trying to create a better and safer credit system for retailers. You know, so millions of people don’t get their credit card information hacked.” Briefly she looks around and sees everyone somewhat absorbed in what she has to say.

Now standing a little straighter, Felicity contines, “It’s all very complicated, and the amount of money that’ll go into making a two centimeter chip will be absolutely astonishing. Besides, I have to create coding that’s impossible to break in the world of sophisticated hacking, but sometimes just for fun I’ll hack into the codes my team created, and when I do break it we have to redo it. Not that I hack for fun – I could do it, but I don’t. I definitely don’t. _Especially_ not at QC.”

It takes her a few seconds to realize that _yes_ , she did indeed ramble off and most likely managed to bore everyone in a minute flat. Even worse she admitted she and her team plan on using a lot of money for this project, something Oliver’s probably not excited about, and she fessed up to hacking. Anxiety hits her, and she suddenly wants to bolt out of there for making a fool out of herself. No one wanted to hear what she was doing at work, “Sorry,” she squeaks.

Much to her surprise, however, there’s a small smile on nearly everyone’s faces – even Oliver’s. She’s not sure if it’s from genuine interest or they’re simply trying not to hurt her feelings. Regardless, Felicity feels the need to apologize once more, but before she can Tommy cuts her off. “That’s a really cool thing you’re doing, Felicity. I just hope Oliver has enough money to give you all the funding you need,” he jokes.

A chuckle emanates from everyone’s lips except for Oliver’s; he’s too busy glaring at Tommy. To his credit he keeps quiet, but his eyes flicker around. He’s probably bored out of his mind.

“If I were you, Oliver, I would definitely keep a tight hold of your money. Felicity has a thing for splurging on electronics,” she hears Laurel say. Felicity frowns, because telling Oliver Queen she’s a shopaholic when it comes to technology isn’t the best way to make her boss feel good about his investments. “ _But_ she knows how to take care of them,” Laurel adds as she beams at Felicity. “Oh wait – except the one time she threw her Xbox controller at my stalker-ish ex, but she missed and it hit the wall,” she recalls.

Planting a hand on her forehead, Felicity complains, “Not only did I admit to hacking, but you’re making me sound like I have anger issues.” She’s not sure if there’s a word that can adequately describe the extreme level of embarrassment she’s feeling.

Felicity’s positive her time spent at QC is finished.

Over to the side she hears Jessica say “Jeez” and through her peripheral vision she can see McKenna give her a suspicious look. Thankfully, McKenna tries to do some damage control on her behalf. “For what it’s worth, Felicity is excellent at her job. But she does have a knack for eating all the ice cream and denying she had any part in it.”

“That’s it, I’m going to get a drink,” Felicity says amidst a sea of laughter. Not wanting to appear rude, she halts her steps and smiles widely at Tommy and Oliver. “It was very nice meeting you. And I would never waste your billions of dollars,” Felicity assures Oliver. Realizing she’s making the situation a thousand times worse, Felicity immediately spins on her heels and doesn’t bother to wait for a response – she _has_ to get out of here.

She practically bolts over to the bar, and once she gets there her midsection collides with the counter. Rubbing her hip, she takes a peek over to her group and sees Laurel chatting with Tommy, while McKenna is engaged in a conversation with Oliver. Jessica, of course, is nowhere to be found. Crisis averted – somewhat.

“Bad night?” When Felicity glances up she sees a cute bartender watching her carefully, an amused expression on his face.

Shrugging, Felicity says, “More like I’ve embarrassed myself to the nth degree.” She leans against the counter and smiles at him. “I tend to have that problem.”

The bartender laughs a little and starts rummaging around. “For what it’s worth, you and your group of friends have been talking to the _celebrities_ much longer than anyone else. At least your embarrassment managed to hold Oliver Queen’s attention."

“Well, my goal in life is _not_ to gain Oliver’s attention, but I guess this means I won’t be seeing him anytime soon,” Felicity sighs. “Even if I work at Queen Consolidated.”

The bartender stops making a drink and hands it to Felicity. It’s a gin and tonic, something she didn’t even want, but she supposes it’s something she needs. “It’s on the house,” the guy says. He winks before leaving off to take care of other customers.

She takes a sweet sip and lets the alcohol burn her throat, but she welcomes the feeling. Not wanting to dance, Felicity heads back the booth they inhabited earlier, but upon reaching there she finds it occupied by another group of friends. Rolling her eyes and feeling tired, Felicity searches for another place to sit down but with no avail. Finally, she pathetically resorts to leaning against a wall underneath a set of stairs leading up to the lounge. It does, however, give her a great view of the club; in a minute flat she spots Jessica dancing exceptionally provocatively with another man, and McKenna is occupied with a man as well. 

As Felicity works on her drink she spots Tommy making his way over to her. She automatically panics and wonders why he would even bother to talk to her. Step by step he comes closer, and Felicity seriously debates on running in any direction so she can avoid small talk. In fact, she wonders why he’s even coming here. _I guess it has to do with Laurel._

Just as it looks like he’s making a direct beeline for her, Tommy surprises her and goes in a completely different direction. When Felicity finally stops panicking and follows Tommy with her eyes, she sees him by the stairs talking to someone. And, as luck would have it, to Oliver.

Felicity’s shrouded in darkness and she’s safely tucked beneath the stairs, but she has a good visual on the boys. Stepping a bit closer, Felicity attempts to zero in on their conversation, because she’s particularly nosey and particularly bored.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asks Oliver. His friend is already halfway up the stairs, but Oliver goes back down to converse with Tommy.

“Needed a breather. Besides, the owner of this club has a _very_ expensive bottle of champagne, and some really hot Russian models,” Oliver says as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Join me!”

Tommy laughs and glances behind him for a moment. “You haven’t changed a bit."

“Once a playboy, always a playboy,” Oliver proudly proclaims. Felicity’s mouth turns in disgust, and she wonders why she’s even listening. _Ugh._

“Yeah, I got that. I . . . think I’m going to stay back for now." Tommy shoves his hands in his pockets and waits for Oliver’s approval for some reason.

It takes a couple of seconds for Oliver to understand _why_ he’s staying back, but once he does a grin forms on his lips. “It’s because of the lawyer, right?”

“Well, the unemployed lawyer,” Tommy clarifies. “She’s smart and really passionate, although she probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

“Not to mention really hot.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a plus.” They giggle like children and Felicity rolls her eyes so hard they start to hurt. She hopes Tommy isn’t doesn’t see Laurel as a toy, because that’s the last thing Laurel needs in her life. But, if Laurel didn’t like Tommy she definitely would’ve let him know. Perhaps he’s the better guy between the two.

“Hey, why didn’t you talk to the other girls? They seem nice and interesting,” Tommy suggests. He’s relaxed now, but it’s obvious he’s anxious to get back to Laurel.

Felicity can see Oliver shake his head before saying, “Nah, not interested.”

Tommy frowns. “Not even the employed lawyer? What about McKenna?”

Snorting, Oliver replies, “McKenna? No way. She’s nice and all, but we’re casual friends. And the lawyer spends too much time reading tabloids.”

“Right. Wait, what about the blonde? The one that works at QC?” 

Talk about unthinkable: Felicity and Oliver? What a colossal disaster. Felicity’s extremely close to gagging at the mere thought of them. There’s no way in hell she would ever be with him, let alone even entertain the thought of it.

It seems Oliver has the same sentiment as her until he says, “Too smart and nerdy. She’s not really my type. And she talks too much.”

He said _what?_

If Felicity weren’t currently in incognito mode, then she certainly would’ve gasped loudly. _Too_ smart and _too_ nerdy? It’s an _issue_ for Oliver? She’s not offended that Oliver doesn’t thinks she’s attractive, but if Oliver finds intelligence a nuisance, then it’s a _wonderful_ thing he doesn’t like her. And, if it’s how he prefers his women, he has whatever coming to him. 

Despite spending five years away, Oliver Queen is still the same brat he always seemed to be. She just – she can’t wrap her head around the fact that Oliver has a problem with smart women. It’s absolutely all right for him to search for a decent lay without giving it a second thought, but to completely dismiss a woman because she passed Algebra and he didn’t? What a demeaning thought. She’s had enough of him.

Annoyed, Felicity leaves her safe haven now that it’s been spoiled by Oliver’s comments. As she walks away, she realizes Oliver Queen is still a vapid and loathsome _boy_ who does _not_ deserve the CFO position at QC. She officially really, really dislikes him.

Felicity takes one final gulp from her drink and moodily thinks _What a jackass_.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this has been a long time coming! First, I want to send a massive thank you to the wonderful nocturnalwrites (also on Ao3 as NocturnalRites) and awriterincowboyboots on Tumblr. This chapter would've been a disaster if it weren't for your tremendous help. I honestly can't put it in words how thankful I am to have you ladies.
> 
> Second, pardon me for the long wait. I also want to thank each and every single person who's read, left kudos and reviewed this baby. It truly means a lot. 
> 
> Off we go! (And I apologize in advance for any grammatical mistakes.)

“How was last night?”

An auburn mane slowly rises from the couch, and when Laurel finally manages to raise her head and peek at Felicity, she most definitely can’t restrain the bubble of laughter waiting to explode. Laurel is a complete and utter mess with her makeup smeared in various different ways, her orange dress lopsided and hiked up to her waist. Her hair has a life of its own.

 In short, the sight is magnificent.

 “Don’t laugh,” Laurel warns, her voice threatening Felicity many hours of torture if she does. In return, Felicity raises a challenging eyebrow and quickly produces her cell phone. Before Laurel realizes what’s happening, Felicity’s already got a decent picture of the sight in front of her, and she laughs when Laurel’s face turns into the biggest scowl she’s ever seen.

Her own stomach is starting to hurt, but Laurel looks like an absolute wreck. “I’m not even sorry,” she laughs. “I can’t believe Prim and Perfect Laurel looks like a glamorous version of Lindsey Lohan.” Another bubble of laughter comes to the surface – she can’t help but find her comparison absolutely hilarious.

 “I don’t even have the strength to be mad,” Laurel groans. She does, however, manage to rest her chin against the back of the sofa. “Did I wake you up when I came in?”

Felicity shakes her head as she heads into the kitchen, preparing to make a cup of coffee. “I was pretty knocked out.” Once Felicity puts the coffee roast in the machine she asks, “What time did you even get back?”

 “Oh God, I don’t even know,” Laurel moans. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that wasted in my entire life.” She sighs and sits up a little straighter, her eyes blinking from the light shining through the window into the living room. “The sun is making me nauseous.”

“Your back is facing the window,” Felicity points out with a roll of her eyes at Laurel’s complaint. “You can’t even _see_ the sun.” The coffee’s aroma is making its presence known, and in a matter of seconds the entire room is permeated with its smell. “At least I made coffee so you don’t have to.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to have it." Laurel exhales loudly and collapses, her body disappearing behind the couch. “Besides, I might have one more round of a vomit marathon coming up.”

“Gross.” Once the coffee is done brewing, Felicity proceeds to pour a cup for herself and one for Laurel. Felicity grabs the bottle of Advil, finishes putting in the appropriate amount of cream and sugar, and carries the coffee back to the living room.

She circles the couch to stand over Laurel’s almost pathetic sight. Clicking her tongue, Felicity sets the mug on the table next to her. “You must’ve had a really good or bad night.

Laurel groans again and throws a hand over her eyes. “Good – I guess – but Tommy parties way too much,” she admits. “I can’t even remember half the night,” Laurel adds with a sigh. “This is so embarrassing.”

 Felicity takes a sip from her mug and pulls out the Advil from her pocket.

“Here, take this,” she affectionately orders as she tosses the bottle towards Laurel. It lands on her stomach, but Laurel’s completely unfazed.

 “What did Tommy Merlyn do to you?” Felicity asks. She moves Laurel’s coffee mug and perches herself on the table, watching with a suspicious eye. “Something happened. Did you get laid and not remember it?”

“God, no.” Laurel dismisses the possibility with a wave of her hand, adding, “I wouldn’t let anyone get near me – Tommy Merlyn or not – when I’m that inebriated.” She attempts to sit up again and frowns. “Where’s my phone?”

 Felicity tilts her head with a smile. “You mean the mess you left at the front door?”

When she’d woken that morning she was greeted by Laurel’s shoes, keys, phone and purse littered all over the floor.  She was half-expecting Laurel’s clothes to be there as well, but it seems Drunk Laurel knew how to keep her clothes on.

“Oh. Right.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Felicity reassures her. “It’s about time you got out of your pity party phase,” she teases as she brings Laurel’s cell phone to her.

 In return, Laurel rolls her eyes. Once she takes her phone and unlocks it, Laurel’s eyes widen and she gasps. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” Felicity asks urgently. Did someone take a photo of Laurel in her drunken state? If that’s the case, she’ll need to take out her computer so she can start removing any obscene images from wherever they might be. “What is it?”

Laurel, still in shock, fails to reply.

“Laurel!” Felicity snaps her fingers, hoping to get her friend’s attention away from the phone and back to her.

“Oh!” Breaking out of her daze she looked up at Felicity, and gravely says, “I gave Tommy my phone number and he texted me.”

There’s a pregnant pause as Felicity’s breathing returned to its regular rate. “You had me scared for a second! I thought someone took a picture of you with a nip slip or something.” Laurel gives her a death stare, which doesn’t faze Felicity in the least. Laurel is more bark than bite.

Felicity sits down on the floor next to Laurel and tries to see the text. “Wait – why is this bad?”

Laurel closes her eyes and stifles a yawn. “It’s Tommy Merlyn,” she stresses. “Getting involved with him would mean constant partying and having paparazzi follow me. I don’t think I’m ready to even be exposed to that kind of life.”

Felicity finds herself agreeing -- somewhat -- although for the past couple of years Tommy has slowed down on his partying lifestyle. Maybe Tommy’s changed for the better.

“Besides, he’s not even my type.”

 _Here we go again_ , Felicity mutters to herself.

Laurel is smart and beyond pretty, so she’s always had men clamoring over her. Felicity can’t recall a single outing when that didn’t happen, but despite the attention, Laurel tended to play hard to get. No matter how compatible the guy is Laurel will find a reason or a way to let him go.

It’s true she’s had no time for relationships in the past, especially during undergrad and law school. Once Laurel sets her sights on something -- no matter how small the task -- no one can change her mind. Felicity admires her determination, but more often than not her stubbornness to follow through with her decisions causes her to stress out, and Felicity finds herself unable to help in those situations. Having someone other than Felicity to lean on would be beneficial for Laurel; she knows her friend needs someone who can provide her comfort in ways Felicity can’t.

For now, all Felicity can do is try her best to convince Laurel it’s time to have a little fun.

In Tommy’s case things look a little different. Last night he was clearly attentive and nervous around Laurel; if he was a regular playboy then he certainly wouldn’t have spent so much time around her, let alone text her the morning after. Sighing, Felicity decides she ought to tell Laurel the truth about Tommy.

 “I don’t think he’s the guy you think he is.”  She takes an ostentatious sip of coffee to make Laurel wait. “In fact, I have evidence.”

 Laurel immediately perks up, but clearly thinks Felicity is bluffing. “Yeah?”

 “Yep.”

“Do tell,” Laurel mocks as she slowly sits up. She finally takes her mug and sips her coffee, her raccoon eyes sizing Felicity up.

_Challenge accepted._

 “I overheard a conversation between Tommy and Oliver. When Oliver asked Tommy to come upstairs and hang out with Russian models, Tommy _declined_.” Felicity watches Laurel carefully and doesn’t miss her friend’s interest pique. 

After a second, Laurel shrugs, indifferent. “He only declined because I was practically wasted and still wasn’t throwing myself at him. He probably wanted to see how long it would take before I decided to sleep with him.” She takes another sip from her mug and pretends this information doesn’t affect her, but Felicity knows better.

“Okay, well, not only did Tommy decline an offer at a nightclub filled with booze and debauchery, he even said – and I quote – ‘She’s smart and passionate’ and he was talking about _you_ instead his regular bimbos,” Felicity says. “Not to mention you got home safe despite being super drunk,” she adds an afterthought.

Confused and stuck in her thoughts, Laurel replies with a quiet “Oh” as she stares at her cup. Felicity starts getting her hopes up, thinking Laurel might acquiesce and go on a date with Tommy, but Laurel looks up at her and shrugs. “I don’t care.”

“You’re lying.” Felicity places her mug beside her and crosses her arms. “Seriously, what’s the worse that could happen?”

“I’d get in a relationship with Tommy?”

That’s it – Felicity’s had enough. “Laurel,” she groans, “I’m not suggesting you two get married, but give the guy a chance – give yourself a chance.” Halting her thoughts and recalling the conversation between Oliver and Tommy, Felicity absentmindedly says, “I think he’s really different than what we’ve seen.”

When Laurel fails to acknowledge anything she’s said, Felicity decides to go for the jugular. _I know a thing or two about closing arguments as well._ “Fine. It seems like you want to continue on with your pity party, which consists of watching movies and eating snacks multiple times a day. If you can’t get a job, at least get Tommy Merlyn.”

“All right, that was completely uncalled for,” Laurel snaps, her jaw ticking for a second.

 _Oops. Bad call._ Felicity scrambles to remedy her truthful outburst. “I just think . . . I think both of you could benefit from each other.”

Come to think of it, she doesn’t doubt that Laurel could make Tommy a better person, while Tommy could make Laurel get out of her very small box. Tommy is sweet and good-looking, not to mention fun. It’s time Laurel breathes some fresh air and lives a little.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to be mean,” Felicity begins as she leans forward. “But I think you’re being judgmental for someone who’s proved to be the complete opposite of what you think of him to be. Give it a chance.”

Laurel eyes her warily – she’s still hurt from the pity-party comment. Toying with a strand of her hair, Laurel focuses on the ground, her face turning contemplative. “It’s -- I haven’t been in a relationship in forever, Smoaky.” Exhaling loudly and leaning against the couch, Laurel sighs. “I don’t think I’m ready for a commitment, if at all. Mentally and emotionally.” She stares off for a moment, then focuses back on the ground. “I’m so used to being by myself . . . It’s -- it’s easier, you know?”

“Oh. That’s . . .” Searching for the right term, Felicity takes another sip from her mug and finally says, “understandable.”  Sitting a little straighter on the table, Felicity watches Laurel carefully; she’s surprised by Laurel’s admission and proud of her for being honest. Felicity doesn’t know much of how long-term relationships work, but she knows getting back in the game can be difficult. Laurel’s always had a bit of an independent streak to her, and giving oneself to another person is frightening.

Regardless, Felicity knows it in her bones that Laurel deserves some down time. She’s always been the second mother to her family and friends, and incredibly selfless when it comes to being present for everyone else. Sure, she and Laurel have been extremely close friends and their friendship knows no bounds, but once more, Felicity can only be there for her in so many ways. They’ve grown, as well as their needs. Perhaps it’s time to admit it to themselves.

Felicity takes a deep breath and smiles softly. “Hey,” she starts off gently. Laurel glances up at Felicity, her black rimmed eyes soulfully waiting for Felicity to finish her thought. “You deserve someone who can make you laugh, hug you when you randomly need one, buy you snacks all because you briefly mentioned it in passing, and have someone who’s willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. I’m not saying Tommy is the one, but I think you should get a chance to indulge yourself, even if it’s for a moment.”

Comfortable silence envelops their living room as Laurel digests what Felicity said. Tapping her finger on the coffee mug, Laurel chews her bottom lip for a second and slowly says, “Fine. I’ll text him once I take a shower.”

Felicity claps excitedly and exclaims, “You two are going to be so cute!” Truth be told, she’s happy for Laurel – the fact that her best friend is even considering the thought of dating someone is a rather big deal. She simply wants Laurel to have fun.  

“Hey, I’m _only_ texting him. I am not agreeing to a date.”

“Yeah,” Felicity agrees, although she has a feeling one coffee shop meeting will turn into several more. “Anyway, what did his text say?”

 “Oh, he just asked me if I got home safe, and a couple of other things.” Glancing up at Felicity, her eyes suddenly go round and soft, and she asks, “What should I text back?”

Felicity gasps dramatically. “You’re asking me for advice?” Laurel laughs lowly and dangles her phone, waiting for Felicity to say something. “Did you at least say you safely passed out on the couch?” she jokes.

“Yes,” Laurel replies. “Then he told me to drink tons of water, as if I already didn’t know.” Laurel rolls her eyes to show Felicity Tommy’s text annoys her, even though her lips slowly tug upwards from a smile she desperately tries to suppress it.

“Don’t be like that,” Felicity admonishes. “He’s trying to get the conversation started. If he asks if you’re available for a quick café chat, you say yes.”

Laurel puts up her hand to stop what she is sure will be a well-meaning, if unnecessary litany of advice. “I’m just texting him.” A smile creeps up on Laurel’s lips as she grabs onto her phone. She begins to type when her movements are abruptly halted and she looks off in the distance. “Um . . .”

“Um what?” Now Felicity’s wondering if Tommy texted her something risqué or childish. If he did, then Felicity’s been proven wrong, and Laurel’s going to gloat for days to come.

Laurel doesn’t respond; instead, she stands up with such speed that her knees knock against Felicity’s, crushing their kneecaps together with unimaginable force. “Ow!” Felicity yells. Her knees sting from the onslaught, and she doubts she’ll be able to stand up now.

Before Felicity can snap at Laurel, her hung over friend is already heading straight to the bathroom, and Felicity’s this close to yelling at her when Laurel beings to gag horribly. _Yikes; she wasn’t kidding when she said she might have to puke_. When her gagging echoes through their apartment, Felicity all but forgives her as she gets up and starts to make ginger and cinnamon tea for the vomiting.

It takes a while to get back in the swing of things.

* * *

It’s Sunday afternoon and Felicity scrambles to finish her paperwork before the evening begins. She doesn’t have much time to watch shows on an actual TV, so she continuously catches up in various ways. However tonight, when her favorite show is airing, she would do anything to watch it live. 

Today is also the day of Laurel and Tommy’s fated coffee shop date and it’s been a good two hours since Laurel left. Felicity had promised herself she wouldn’t hack into Laurel’s phone so she could listen to their conversation, which would be a violation of trust, not to mention completely unnecessary since she can just wait and find out old-fashioned way.

Truth be told, seeing Laurel get dressed and head out the door made Felicity extremely happy. Laurel’s spent far too many days lounging around and receiving rejection after rejection from law firms. Unlike Laurel, Felicity has had it easier -- graduating from MIT with top honors means getting jobs right after college. She knows the rate at which lawyers get hired pales compared to those who major in IT, but she hopes Laurel will be feeling less disheartened once she starts hanging out with Tommy. Sometimes forgetting how to achieve life goals will inadvertently lead someone to it.

Felicity turns her attention back to her work, and it isn’t until 45 minutes later when the door’s lock starts to jingle. Anticipating what Laurel has to say about the date, Felicity drops what she’s doing and patiently waits on the couch. Finally, the door opens and Laurel walks in, her face glowing and a shy smile forming on her lips. She’s happy, Felicity notes with a smile of her own.

“Hey there, Miss Coffee Shop Date girl,” Felicity teases. She watches Laurel smile once more and take off her shoes. “Give me the deets: what he wore, if he paid, what you ordered, and even the songs playing at the shop." Laurel doesn’t respond, and instead comes over to the couch, flopping right next to Felicity. Laurel’s positively glowing, and Felicity can’t suppress the amount of happiness she’s feeling. “So?”

Laurel rubs her palms against her jeans and takes a deep breath. “It was good. Better, even,” she adds as an afterthought. Resting her chin in her hand she says, “I . . . wouldn’t mind an actual date.”

Excitedly, Felicity turns and completely faces Laurel, crossing her legs pretzel style on the couch. “Laurel!” she squeals as she lightly slaps her friend on the shoulder. “That’s amazing!”

Laurel laughs a bit and she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, blushing at whatever thought is crossing her mind. Felicity’s entranced by Laurel’s change in mood, behavior, and overall demeanor. This is . . . something. “Yeah, it kind of is.”

“What did you two talk about? Did he invite you to a super fancy yacht party?” Felicity inquires. “Because if that’s the case, we need to go dress shopping, and I’ll do our hair.” She inhales another bout of oxygen and continues, “I think black really suits you ever since you got lighter highlights. As for me, I haven’t had a chance to wear the green –“

“Felicity!”

She innocently looks at Laurel. “Yeah?”

“It’s not happening,” Laurel deadpans. “We talked. That’s it." Taking a deep breath she admits, “But I would like to go to a yacht party.”

Felicity fist pumps the air. “I knew it!” They both laugh, and Felicity finds herself staring at Laurel. Her skin’s got a bit of color and her hair is shining, while her lips are refusing to go back down to the perpetual frown she’d adopted in the past few months. “Laurel, this is really great news,” she adds sincerely. “Whatever happens with Tommy . . . Well, I hope he gives you a great time.”

Chuckling once more, Laurel muses, “Maybe I should get Tommy to hook you up with Oliver. We’ll be the two BFFs dating extremely rich BFFs.”

Whatever happy thoughts and feelings running through Felicity’s veins vanish into thin air. After Oliver’s disparaging comments at the club, she’s got nothing but disgust for him. “No. No . . . fucking way.”

“Oh, come on!” Laurel rolls her eyes. “Don’t forget, you were the one who pushed me to meet Tommy, and here I am today, having successfully gone on a date with Tommy Merlyn and considering another one.” She smirks and curiously asks, “Is it because he’s rich?”

Felicity shakes her head and shifts her position on the couch. “It’s not that. Let’s just say I heard Oliver Queen say he’s not interested in smart women. And he said I talk too much.” As the conversation replays out in her head, Felicity’s skin starts to burn from annoyance and anger. She’s frustrated with herself; she should have left her hiding place as soon as he opened his mouth. Felicity wasted two minutes of her life on that man, and she intends on spending no more.

Laurel looks apprehensively at Felicity, but when she realizes her friend is telling the truth, she can’t help but burst out, “You have got to be kidding me!”  

“Nope. It doesn’t surprise me. He was and always will be a frat boy, and he’s definitely kept up with his playboy charade up since he got back.” Wanting to forget and move on from Oliver’s thoughtless comments, Felicity says, “It doesn’t bother me. But if I have to spend another minute with him, I’m going to kill myself. Or him.”

Mockingly, Laurel gasps and exclaims, “You wouldn’t do that!”

“I would.”

They laugh simultaneously, and when Laurel goes on to talk about the rest of her date, Felicity carefully watches Laurel and mentally notes her each and every smile. It makes Felicity bubbly on the inside, and as the night continues on she finds herself wishing for moments like these. Life is too short to let reality prevent anyone from achieving any bit of happiness.  

* * *

A couple of weeks later as the weather gets warmer, Felicity finds herself wanting another break. Work has been tiresome, and to make matters worse auditors have started to trickle back into the office, bothering Felicity to the utmost degree. She’s already extremely stressed out by her project and its constant issues; the last thing she needs is another problem to deal with.

After successfully lashing out at an auditor, Felicity saunters through the IT department’s hallway and heads straight to the break room. If there’s one thing she absolutely detests, it’s having an auditor breathe down her neck and preventing her from working. She respects the work they do, but the amount of pressure she faces is immeasurable. And it’s not even the end of the fiscal year yet.

Exhaling loudly, Felicity rakes her fingers through her hair – she curled it today instead of putting it up – and focuses on getting to her destination. She’s so engrossed in her thoughts that she nearly bumps into Walter Steele, CEO of Queen Consolidated, standing in the middle of the hallway in his full glory.

“M-Mr. Steele,” she stammers. She’s completely caught off guard, not to mention it’s a very, very rare occurrence for the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company to visit the IT department. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Mr. Steele smiles at her obvious discomfort, and she finds herself wanting to hide in her office. He is incredibly tall and exceptionally handsome, and even though he’s CEO with a gentle demeanor the very sight of him sets her on edge.

She’s known Walter for a while now; he was the first person to actively pursue Felicity’s talents right when she graduated college. Ever since he took over the company QC has been doing better than ever, profits are flowing in, and if it weren’t for his good leadership Felicity wouldn’t have the money to continue with her research. When Felicity was hired he was CFO at the time when Robert Queen was alive, but he had successfully taken care of the company and, well, Robert’s widowed wife.

“Ah, Felicity,” he booms. His English accent rolls off his tongue, smooth as fresh caramel, and she gulps. Even if he is nice and not at all imposing, he’s still her boss. “I was simply taking Oliver on a tour of the company."

_Kill me now._

Sure enough, Oliver appears from behind Walter, and her mood – which was currently on a high after dealing with the auditor – turns sour in an instant. She can’t muster the strength to hate him at this very moment, but she truly wishes he could stay away from her sight. Felicity has no time for lazy rich boys.

He has the gall to smile at her, and as a gut reaction Felicity’s face morphs into one of displeasure. In a moment’s notice Oliver’s face falls, and it takes a good two seconds for her to realize how big of a mistake she’s made.

In any other occasion Felicity wouldn’t have cared how she reacted to Oliver, but Walter Steele is someone she respects. Oliver is his stepson and heir to the company, and she all but voiced her absolute disgust for Oliver.

“Yes. Hi,” Felicity says as she attempts to clean up her faux pas. Briefly, she glances over at Oliver, and notices he’s schooled his features and staring at her blankly. “Is this the last stop before you head upstairs, Mr. Steele?” Realizing she purposely left out Oliver, she adds as an afterthought, “Mr. Queen?”

“Yes actually,” Walter says, unperturbed by her behavior. “But Oliver here is having some computer issues, and I suggested we talk to QC’s finest researcher." He clasps his hands behind his back, smiles and leans forward. “Would you be willing to take a look at it?”

Felicity purses her lips and glances between the two men, and she finally notices a black Lenovo nestled in-between Oliver’s chest and arm. “Definitely,” she says slowly once she realizes there will be no snack time for her. “Follow me,” she offers as she attempts to keep her voice from sounding displeased by the turn of events. She’s afraid she’s failing in masking her dislike for Oliver, but once he smiles marginally she quietly sighs in relief; being fake isn’t her strong suit.

She starts to turn back around towards her office when Walter stops her. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to head back up to the office.” Clasping a hand on Oliver’s shoulder he adds, “See you at dinner.”

Oliver grins and nods at his stepfather. “I’ll try to get there on time.”

Walter laughs as he exists the department, leaving Felicity with Oliver. She’s dreading this entire conversation, and when she looks over to the side, some of her co-workers are staring at her. “Well, ready to get your computer fixed?” Her glasses fall a little, and since Oliver is so tall she’s unable to see him clearly. _This is a plus._

“Definitely,” he responds enthusiastically. All Felicity can do is smile weakly and turn back around, and when she starts walking towards the main work station a bout of nervousness hit her. Not only is Oliver her almost boss, but he’s also seen her in club attire and already listened to her ramble off in the worst of ways. She’s not sure if she should approach this meeting as if she slightly knows him or doesn’t know him at all. Bringing up their chance meeting would only make things awkward.

She’s extremely conscious of Oliver’s presence behind her, and she has a feeling her short strides are making him walk exceptionally slow. Not wanting to spend another minute with him longer than necessary, Felicity speeds up and doesn’t hesitate to wait for Oliver. The pumps she’s wearing painfully pinch her toes, and her speed walking is only making matters worse.

Gritting her teeth, she doesn’t slow down. _The things I do to avoid him._

The IT department maintains a workstation for smaller issues, often pertaining to viruses or other computer problems the company’s employees has. It’s empty right now and Felicity’s beyond thankful. She doesn’t need prying eyes and ears, let alone spend an extra minute with Oliver Queen.

She finds a desk, flops down on the chair, and immediately turns on the computer. She’s pushed her glasses back up and focuses on the computer screen, glad they’ve been updated and working at a fast pace. Felicity hears Oliver slowly and quietly sit down on the chair in front of her and he notes, “You walk fast.”

 _Only when I don’t want to be around people like you_. Ignoring his pretty face, Felicity distractedly replies, “I just don’t want to keep you in the boring part of QC when you have important things to do.” She halts her movements and swallows thickly, unsure of how that sounded. “Because you own the company and all.”

Oliver takes a deep breath and watches her apprehensively. “No,” he says, drawing out the singly syllable word till it sounded more like five. “I don’t own the company per se, but my family does." He smiles a little, and Felicity notices a small amount of bags under his eyes. _Must be partying too much_.

“But you still own it." The computer finally reboots, and Felicity automatically grabs Oliver’s laptop and begins working without a second thought.

“I . . . guess,” he responds lamely. Felicity glances at him above the rim of her glasses before quickly before resuming her work.

Once she plugs his laptop in and opens it up, she steals a few peeks at Oliver and watches him carefully. He’s dressed in a sharp suit – expensive, no doubt – and sits stoically on the seat in front of her, his eyes darting across the room. She half expected him to be beyond arrogant and sit with his legs spread out, but quite frankly Oliver seems a bit nervous. He’s less chatty compared to their last encounter, but that may be since he’s not under the influence of alcohol. At any rate, she reminds herself Oliver Queen is not someone she wants to spend a single second thinking about, so she returns her attention to the sick computer.

Shortly after an awkward silence follows, and out of nervousness Felicity starts tapping her foot, knowing any moment now she’s going to start speed talking because she has never been able to handle silences. Out of habit she presses her pen in between her lips, something Laurel had suggested to her ages ago and is thankful she is able to remedy a potentially terrible situation, even if just temporarily. Opening her mouth – no matter where she’s at – always proves to be her downfall.

Clearing her throat, Felicity adjusts her glasses and takes a look at Oliver’s computer. “Holy crap,” she whispers under her breath, only to add a dramatic flair when the pen lodged between her lips falls and clatters on the desk.

His laptop is littered with hundreds of tiny viruses, and there’s a particular Trojan that looks as if it’s been designed and modified in the deepest depths of Hell. Most of these look like ones often found on illegal, foreign or high traffic websites not allowed in the States. She shakes her head; it’s going to take a while to delete them. What was he doing to get these viruses?

A strong whiff of cologne fills her nose, and when she glances up she sees Oliver leaning forward, concerned for the welfare of his laptop.  “Is everything alright?” His blue eyes widen and he watches Felicity intensely, gauging her reaction.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Felicity assures him as she tries to brush off the concern. Warily, she glances at Oliver again and smiles for no particular reason. She focused back on the screen and mutters, “I wonder how many porn sites you watched to get these monster viruses.”

_Oh no._

Her fingers stop moving and hover over the keyboard, and all other movements, including breathing, freeze. A bucket of flaming embarrassment and fear lands on her, and Felicity is now in a position where she wants to cry, scream and run out of here -- in no particular order. Hesitantly, she looks at Oliver, who has such an ambiguous expression she doesn’t know what to think. Or what he’s thinking.

And so she resorts to doing what she does best: talking.

“I – I didn’t mean to say that,” she begins as the words started to roll off her tongue. She waves her hand and laughs nervously. “I didn’t meant to insinuate you watch porn all day. Not that you would because, you know, you’re Oliver Queen.”

She stops again when she realizes she’s making the situation a thousand times worse. Her head starts to itch from embarrassment and she swallows thickly. Panic hits her, and Felicity desperately scrambles to fix the situation.  “W-What I meant to say is you don’t need porn sites when you’re _you_ and you can get the real thing, but there’s no judgment when it comes to watching online porn. It’s free, so I _completely_ understand the appeal.”

That’s it – she’s done for. Her career is officially finished. She can imagine herself poorly explaining to future employers she made an ass out of herself while she was fixing Oliver Queen’s computer.   _Well, I indirectly told QC’s heir to the company he’s a manwhore and watching online porn is perfectly acceptable for Oliver. So that’s why I’m looking for a job._

A sinking resignation hits her, and all she wants to do was hide under her desk until the entire office clears out. Her skin feels as if boiling hot water was thrown on her, and she can almost feel tears threatening to spill over. Taking another deep breath, Felicity reboots her brain and counts backwards from three – a coping mechanism she developed over years of babbling. Adjusting her shirt’s collar and trying her best to regain any sort of confidence left, Felicity hoarsely apologizes, “I – I know you didn’t expect to come here and listen to me . . . say that. I’m sorry.”

She’s afraid if she makes eye contact with Oliver she’ll see an angry and offended face, but to her surprise Oliver’s got a bit of a smirk on his lips, and his eyes shine brightly under the florescent light. Her mouth opens once again to fix what she said, but Oliver gently cuts her off.

“If it makes you feel better, no, it wasn’t porn.” Once again, his lips tug upward – seemingly of their own accord – as he adds, “I was wanting to watch a Chinese drama, but the only way to watch it was to download the episodes. And with it,” he gestures to the laptop, “come monster viruses.”

Relief hits her; she can’t fathom the sheer luck she has sometimes. Felicity’s positive if Walter was still here she would’ve been in big trouble, but seeing Oliver’s known to be the jokester, it actually worked in her favor. At the same time, however, she really did insinuate Oliver sleeps around and watches porn all day. She still can’t believe he’s not angry with her.

“Okay,” she responds hesitantly. “Didn’t know you spoke Chinese." Oddly enough, Oliver’s comments considerably calmed her down, and she’s back to working on the computer, her eyes scanning for another potentially evil virus.

“Mandarin, actually,” Oliver corrects her easily.

“Oh.” Even though she’s a MIT graduate and an accomplished researcher at QC, she suddenly feels ignorant. Since when did Oliver start speaking different languages other than flirting?

Another minute of silence follows, and Felicity does her very best not to open her mouth again. The office is quiet since many of the workers have now left for their lunch break, and right on cue her stomach grumbles loudly. A groan escapes her lips; could this day get any worse? From her peripheral vision, Felicity spots Oliver awkwardly looks around, his fingers slowly rubbing together as he pretends not hear Felicity’s stomach talking.

She ignores him and her stomach, and after a minute she gathers the courage to say, “Aside from the various viruses, there’s nothing too damaging to your laptop.” Shrugging and leaning against the chair, she eyes Oliver. “I’ll have one of the techs fix it up in the next couple of days.”

Oliver nods slowly and presses his lips together while Felicity patiently waits for him to leave. After a moment Oliver suddenly smiles brightly and taps on her desk. “Thank you,” he says gently as he rises from his seat. From Felicity’s position Oliver looks like a giant, his strong and tall body hovering over her petite frame and tiny desk.

Watching him carefully, she wonders if he plans on having her fired, and nods tightly but doesn’t say a word. Oliver smiles once more, but his entire demeanor changes just enough to where he looks as if something is up his sleeve. Before he leaves, he stops at her desk and looks down at her, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “And also, not all of the viruses are from watching shows illegally.” Felicity frowns, unsure of what he means. She almost opens her mouth to ask when he shrugs, as if it’s not a big deal. “Sorry I lied.”

It hits her then: Oliver just admitted to watching porn on the very computer she’d spent fifteen minutes touching. Without another thought Oliver winks and saunters out of the department, his steps echoing off the walls, and Felicity’s back to wanting to kill herself. Disgusted, she wipes her hands on her slacks and shudders.

Having Oliver confess to watching porn isn’t what she had in mind right for her lunch break.

* * *

“Felicity, you have no idea how amazing it was! I just – I can’t believe how wonderful it turned out to be,” gushes Laurel. She’s still wearing her black dress and heels from her date with Tommy, and she smiles so wide her gums show. Felicity beams back in return, and she waits for Laurel to say something else. “I actually feel . . . happy.” She looks off into the distance for a moment then focuses back on Felicity, her lips forming into another smile. “I can’t believe I enjoyed a date with Tommy Merlyn.”

It’s eleven at night and Felicity has had an exhausting week. Friday is meant to be her relaxing day, but she had to finish up some documents, and she didn’t get back until nine. By the time she did, Laurel left for her date with Tommy. They’ve spent the last thirty minutes talking about her date and Felicity’s getting tired. Regardless, she’s excited for Laurel and enjoys watching her friend excitedly tell her about her date, and not letting her unemployment prospects dampen her spirits.

Exhaling loudly, Felicity does her very best to stifle a yawn. She succeeds, and grins like a maniac once she notices another smile slowly forming on Laurel’s lips, her eyes shining brightly. “You’ve got it bad,” Felicity jokes. Laurel chuckles and toys with the hem of her dress, her shyness and warmth bringing a bit of lightness in her.

Sighing deeply, Laurel tips her head to the side and thinks aloud, “You’re right – I do.” She wrinkles her nose all of a sudden and abruptly says, “Maybe I shouldn’t be so easily charmed. He’ll think I’m _way_ too available and take advantage of my unemployment situation.”

Felicity groans and rolls her head to release some tension. “Laurel, he already _knows_ you’re available. Being available doesn’t make you look desperate. It just means you two will have more time to hang out.”

“I . . . guess,” Laurel says tentatively after a moment’s thought. “I haven’t had much time to hang out with anybody since undergrad, actually. I think this might be good.”

Relieved and surprised Laurel is admitting to this, Felicity smiles wide. “Yes! Word to the wise: I’m always right."

Laurel rolls her eyes in response. “What?” Felicity asks, unperturbed. “Never underestimate someone who spends an incredible amount of time observing and finding patterns. It becomes very easy to spot the issues.”

“You and your gosh darn patterns,” Laurel jokes. “You know, I used to envy you when you would finish my book of sudoku puzzles in a few hours, but then I would take the book and tell all my friends I did them,” she confesses.

Shocked by Laurel’s admission, Felicity lightly pushes her shoulder. “You did not!” Laurel giggles and Felicity fails to keep her own laughter tucked inside. “At least I know my efforts didn’t go to waste." 

Raising her hand up to her forehead, Laurel salutes Felicity. “It was an honor taking credit for something I didn’t do." Felicity giggles once again before they slip back into a comfortable silence, and her mind -- for once -- isn’t running in circles.

Finally glancing at the clock, Felicity says, “I think it’s time me and my PJs are reunited for the night. I got back from work at nine, after all.”

“Sure, go ahead."

“OK.” She gets up and nods at Laurel, who’s softly smiling and says, “Try not to wake me up before ten tomorrow. My brain needs a restart.”

“Definitely,” Laurel says quietly, her eyes closing halfway in sleepiness as well -- or perhaps it’s from being utterly content. “I don’t have any plans to get up early either.”

Felicity smiles warmly. “Glad we agree on that.” She’s about to turn around and leave when she suddenly feels the need to say something else, her mouth awkwardly opening and closing as she gathers her thoughts. Facing Laurel and grinning widely, Felicity sincerely says, “I’m really excited for you, Laurel. I hope he gives you every bit of happiness you deserve.”

Laurel laughs heartedly, her eyes shining and her lips forming into another smile. Slowly, Laurel gets off the couch, her heels clacking on the hardwood flooring. As she approaches Felicity, she beams and wraps her arms around her, and Felicity naturally hugs her back. For a split moment Felicity thinks they’re back in college, a time when they weren’t weighted by adult responsibilities. Sighing contentedly, Felicity holds onto Laurel for a moment longer, her collared shirt wrinkling more so when she fiercely clutches onto Laurel. When Laurel pulls back, her face radiates from happiness. “Thanks Felicity. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Felicity quickly squeezes Laurel’s shoulder before heading straight to the bathroom, and oddly enough Felicity finds herself relieved of all things. She doesn’t know why to be exact. Is it simply because she won’t come home everyday to find Laurel moping around? _Jeez Louise, Smoak. Try not to be so selfish._

Back in college Felicity was revered for her smarts -- after all, not everyone attends a prestigious university -- but MIT proved to be a challenge for her, a young woman with an impossibly bright mind. Being female in a male-dominated arena is difficult, and although she’s become accustomed to QC’s IT department overflowing with men, she still shudders at her time spent at MIT. Being a woman -- and a woman who is sure of herself -- was an odd sight for her classmates. Meeting Laurel was Felicity’s saving grace; Laurel was the first person to take her seriously as a woman, and more importantly, as a friend. There was no competition with her, and still isn’t. She’s been immensely supportive of Felicity, and has provided her with a second family, love and laughter. Felicity wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Laurel constant support.

She suddenly feels ashamed for being relieved that Laurel’s relationship prospect could benefit Felicity some way. She can only imagine how difficult it must be for Laurel to finally open herself up, and she berates herself for being so childish. Laurel has done an immeasurable amount for Felicity; the least she can do is be there for Laurel as she ventures into new territory.

Brushing those thoughts away, Felicity begins her nightly ritual in the bathroom, and her mind floats over to how different Tommy appears to be in person. Who would have thought Tommy Merlyn could be serious when it comes to relationships?

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for his _friend._

* * *

Normally on a Saturday, Felicity goes to sleep no later than nine -- working constantly takes a toll on her -- but tonight she’s wide awake as she idly watches TV. Currently, Laurel is on _another_ date with Tommy, and she has a feeling it’ll be a while before she comes back home. Shivering uncontrollably, Felicity snuggles in between numerous blankets, and adjusts her position on the couch, her short legs barely reaching the other end of the sofa.

Grabbing onto the blankets and bringing them closer, Felicity takes out her hand from underneath the blanket and flips the channels, her hand protesting from the lack of warmth. She stops at a couple of news channels and some movies, but nothing really catches her eye. Another few seconds pass of aimless channel surfing when Felicity stops at one of the local stations and sees TMZ playing.

And, as it turns out, the guest of honor appearing on screen is Oliver Queen.

 _Really?_ Felicity’s given up at this point; apparently there’s no escaping Oliver no matter where she goes. TMZ is airing paparazzi footage of Oliver leaving a fancy restaurant from last night, and once he comes outside hundreds of flashes go off in a second. He seems unperturbed by the amount of attention, and he continues on his way, his bodyguard ushering him towards a limo. The camera shakes violently and causes Felicity to get slightly dizzy.

Tired of seeing his face and unwilling to endure another bout of dizziness, Felicity nearly changes the channel when a paparazzo loudly and rudely asks Oliver, “Where’s your date? Did she realize she had enough of you?”

The other photographers “Ooh” at the man’s comment and all goes silent for a moment. Come to think of it, Felicity is curious as to why Oliver doesn’t have three woman draped around his arms – it’s a common sight for the world to see. Instead, it’s just him and his bodyguard. How odd.

Oliver stops walking and pauses in front of the cameraman, his blue eyes focusing on the man with such intensity she thinks he might burst. Felicity’s watched and seen Oliver leaving nightclubs looking disheveled and out of it, but this time around Oliver looks in complete control, ready to take the world by a storm. His eyes glimmer under the artificial light, but for once, they’re not glazed over with intoxication. They’re brewing with careful and controlled intensity, and Felicity finds herself paying more attention to the TV than she initially planned.

In a split second, Oliver’s demeanor changes and he smiles phonily, his bright white teeth reflecting and blinding the camera lens. “I told _them_ to wait for me once I finish my meeting,” he responds smoothly, and he winks at the camera before the paparazzo can ask a second question. The rest of the photographers whoop and whistle, and before Oliver ducks inside his car, he waves haughtily as he embarks on another night of debauchery with several other women.

Yuck.

* * *

Three weeks have passed in a complete blur, her busy job preventing her from doing something other than sleeping four hours at night and working until she’s about ready to collapse from exhaustion.  In a week’s time she has to head out to Metropolis for a quick consulting job, then come back to Star City to work on another project. She’s getting tired, but she knows all of her hard work will pay off . . . sooner or later.

Currently, she’s eating lunch with McKenna at Big Belly Burger, which is not to far from QC’s building. She’s already plowed through her cheeseburger and swallows it down with a cool soda. The salty fries are begging for her attention and Felicity immediately pops five inside her mouth.

McKenna watches her with a slight amount of confusion and observes, “You must’ve been really hungry.” Her friend is clearly been taking her time to savor the delicious burger and judging Felicity as she does so.

Propping her elbow on the table, Felicity throws another handful of fries in her mouth and shrugs. “Girl’s gotta eat.”

McKenna chuckles and shakes her head. “I second that,” she responds as she raises her soda in agreement. Felicity lifts her cup as well and takes a loud sip, the cold and bubbly drink reminding her taste buds of her college days filled with fast food. “But I have to lay off on the carbs. Except I kind of don’t want to."

Frowning, Felicity asks, “Why?” Gesturing at McKenna’s body she says, “You look incredible the way you are.” In fact, Felicity’s starting to notice McKenna’s been working out a lot lately, and her body has gotten stronger. “Are you planning on getting into MMA or something? Because you can be pretty scary without the extra muscle.”

McKenna laughs heartily. “I actually have . . . something up my sleeve." Her bronze eyes shine from a secret she’s holding back and she adds, “But I kind of don’t want to say anything just in case if it doesn’t work out.” A stray piece of ebony hair lands on her cheek, and she tucks it behind her ear, suddenly shy from her admission. “Does it make sense?”

“Absolutely. Just promise me when it does work out, I’ll be the first to know." Felicity takes another sip from her cup, wondering exactly what McKenna has in store for herself. Whatever it is, Felicity intends to support her all the way through.

“Yes ma’am.” McKenna salutes Felicity and they both laugh. Another couple of seconds of silence follows through until McKenna inquires, “How are the lovebirds, by the way? Has Tommy bought her a brand new Mercedes yet?” She smirks at her comment and puts a couple of fries in her mouth.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Felicity sighs deeply. “Don’t even get me started on those two." Ever since the big date, Laurel has spent every waking minute gushing about Tommy. It’s gotten to the point where it’s all they – correction: Laurel – talk about all the time, and Felicity almost dreads coming home. “I’m glad Laurel’s having fun, but I just – I can’t anymore."  

McKenna giggles. “I feel so bad for you. I know how it feels,” she sympathizes. “When my sister started dating her husband, it was like living in a constant hell-hole filled with putrid rainbows."

“Well, it’s not that I’m not happy for Laurel, but . . .”

Felicity tries to put her thoughts in order. It’s only been almost two months since they’ve met, but Felicity’s getting the feeling Laurel’s withholding some of her feelings. She’s not sure if it’s from fear and not wanting to get hurt in the event Tommy returns to his playboy days, or if she plans on having their relationship simply be a fling. Felicity is known for sticking her nose in places where it shouldn’t be, so she’s been patiently quiet whenever Laurel sorts through her feelings with Felicity.  She wants to be supportive of Laurel’s relationship, but until Laurel decides she needs Felicity to help her figure things out, she’ll stay back and wait.

Shaking her head and wanting to change the topic, she says, “Laurel’s a big girl and maybe this will be a good change for her.”

McKenna smiles widely and raises her cup one more time. “To changes,” she toasts.

Following suit, Felicity lifts her cup and repeats, “To changes.”

* * *

“Where’s my tablet?” Felicity asks, panicked. It’s well into the night and she’s hardly packed anything for her trip to Metropolis. Despite her flight leaving at seven in the morning, Felicity – for some unfathomable reason – hasn’t packed at all. She supposes it’s due to the fact she’s staying in the States and not traveling for an international consulting job, but if Felicity’s going to get lazy about something, it should never be this. She’s certainly paying for it now.

“Got it!” Laurel shouts from under the couch. Getting up, she pads over towards Felicity, gingerly hands the tablet and sternly orders, “Don’t you ever lose it.”

Felicity dismissively nods her head. “Sure. Whatever.” As she rummages around for her other chargers and cords, she thinks aloud, “I need to get my act together.” As of late Felicity’s been slipping on basic things, such as cleaning her room and keeping everything in order. Her job is working her to the bone, and she’s worried this trend will become a regular habit.

Laurel laughs and flops down on the couch. “You’re being dramatic.”

Glaring at her, Felicity pouts, “Why don’t you try to work on four different projects and travel all the time? Then you can tell me if I’m being dramatic or not.” Sensing she may have said that in a rude tone, Felicity admits, “Or . . . You’re right, I _am_ being dramatic.”

Tilting her head to the side, Laurel shrugs. “Well, you do have every reason to be stressed out. Plus our mini vacation had to get cut short.” Eyeing Felicity, she jokingly accuses, “It’s all because of you and your job.”

“Oh please,” Felicity shoots back. She sighs and says, “I really do wish I could cancel. I feel bad.” Their vacation plan was never set in stone, but they had decided if Felicity had a free weekend they would definitely do something. Alas, work called and she currently wishes she could go upstate with Laurel, lounging around and tanning with no care in the world.

Placing a hand on her forehead, she begins to rub it as she suddenly feels trapped and fatigued. “I really need a break,” Felicity moans. Her legs buckle underneath her from weariness, and she also collapses on the couch next to Laurel. “Can you kidnap me and we can go to the beach for the next five months?”

“Why of course,” Laurel mocks. Upon seeing Felicity’s less than amused face, she giggles and hesitantly adds, “Well, I was planning on going . . . somewhere.” She tugs on her yoga pants and steadfastly focuses on them, and Felicity has a feeling it has to do with Tommy. “But I’m not sure.”

“Why not? You have unlimited free time, you know. And I won’t be offended if you do go.” 

Laurel takes a deep breath and thinks for a moment. “I just . . . I don’t –“ Frustrated, Laurel runs a hands through her hair and sighs once more, her thoughts refusing to align themselves. “I don’t want to go forward with something if it . . . If it doesn’t work out.”

Ah, now she gets it – Laurel really _is_ afraid of getting hurt. Felicity immediately sympathizes, but from what she’s seen thus far, both Laurel and Tommy are head over heels for each other. Perhaps Laurel’s nervousness stems from her lack of relationships. Diving head-on into a relationship can be scary, but it’s impossible to know what could happen if Laurel’s not willing to try. Each relationship is different, and to hold back simply means it’ll stay in frozen in limbo.

“If you and Tommy weren’t meant to be, then I don’t think you would be feeling like a love struck sixteen year old after every date.” Laurel frowns, and before she can cut Felicity off, she hurriedly adds, “I think going on a mini vacation with Tommy won’t hurt. And if you still feel this way after spending some time with him, then you can break it off.” Adjusting her glasses and glancing at Laurel, Felicity shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Laurel’s silent for a few seconds as her eyes glaze over. Watching her carefully, Felicity contemplates if she should take back what she said. When it comes to Laurel’s personal issues, she prefers Felicity not say anything -- she’s always been the kind to keep her feelings to herself and rarely opens up. Her relationship with Tommy is certainly causing Laurel to confront her own problems and insecurities, but perhaps this will work in her favor.

Seconds pass, and Felicity’s reached the point where she feels she must say something. Swallowing thickly, Felicity nearly opens her mouth when Laurel abruptly glances up, smiles at Felicity and cheerily says, “I’ll think about it.” Standing up, she asks Felicity, “Do you want some mint tea?”

“O-OK,” Felicity hesitantly replies. Warily, she eyes Laurel and finds her change in behavior odd, and wonders if she should comment on it.   _I’ll let her be_.  Whatever is going on with Laurel, she’ll figure it out. Felicity can’t protect Laurel from getting hurt, but she can help her reach a decision when Laurel needs her input. That’s what friends are for.

As Laurel heads into the kitchen, Felicity suddenly wishes they were back in college when the only thing they had to worry about was not failing their classes. Back then they were a dynamic duo unworried about their futures together, and didn’t let anything – or anyone – get in the way of their wants and desires. They were unstoppable.

Adult life can be _so_ hard sometimes.

* * *

Felicity’s never been too keen on big cities. Star City has the right amount of buildings and traffic to make it tolerable, but Metropolis is extremely noisy and smelly. She can hardly walk around the city without gagging at the pollution, and the lack of personal space causes her to flinch even at the slightest movements. Thankfully, she’ll finish her consulting job today, then come Monday she’s back to work in Star City. She misses home.

Currently, she’s heading back to work after grabbing a quick lunch at a nearby diner. Crowds of civilians nearly trample Felicity as she attempts to get back to the office, her anger blossoming when no one even bothers to apologize. Coupled with the Metropolis’s rude citizens and polluted air, Felicity’s having an extremely difficult time walking about in her four inch heels. They’re continuously getting stuck in the cracks and crevices, and she’s had gum get stuck on her shoes more times than she can count.

Focusing on the ground, Felicity treks her way back to work, and she’s so absorbed on not falling over that she doesn’t notice her phone ringing. Halting on the middle of the sidewalk – and subsequently earning a few glares – Felicity takes out her phone and moves to the side. It’s Laurel who’s calling.

“Hey,” she greets as she steps further away from the main sidewalk. Plugging one finger inside her ear to block out the noise, she yells, “What’s up?”

“ _Hey!_ ” Laurel says. “ _Are you outside?_ ”

A city bus drives by the moment she’s about to reply, its fumes clogging Felicity’s nostrils and causing her to gag. “Yeah. I just got out of lunch and I’m going back to work.” Hugging her purse tighter and preparing to walk back on the sidewalk, Felicity asks, “Why, is something wrong?”

She hears a faint “ _No_ ” and resumes her Walk of Torture. “ _When are you coming back to Starling?_ ”

“Uh,” Felicity begins, her mind and body entirely concentrated on not falling over. “I was going to take the red-eye tonight.” She continues to walk towards her destination, but as she walks some more she sees a homeless man quietly sitting next to a trashcan. As she approaches him, Felicity produces a twenty and promptly puts it in the dingy cup in front of him. “Remember I told you I was coming in late, and that you didn’t need to pick me up because I parked my car at the airport?” The man barely registers her and Felicity proceeds forward.

“ _Right._ _Well, I actually went on the vacation I talked about . . . with Tommy. At The Hamptons,_ ” she explains.

Felicity stops dead in her tracks once again, trying to process the information Laurel gave her. “Seriously?” Since when did she and Tommy go on a vacation? And more importantly, since when did Laurel go to The Hamptons? Last she checked, Laurel was hesitant to continue on with her relationship with Tommy – or so she thought.  

Once again, people are giving her dirty looks for stopping on the middle of the sidewalk, so she resumes her movements. “Are you _really_ serious?” A  sudden gust of wind blows Felicity’s carefully curled hair. “When did you leave?” She’s surprised to say the least.

Felicity resumes walking when Laurel finally says, “ _Yes I’m serious! I pretty much left right after you went to the airport. Tommy asked me to go and I took your advice. Aren’t you proud of me?_ ”

“Definitely!” Come to think of it, this may be the first time Laurel has ever listened to her. She has to relish this moment before it goes away. “You do know I’m going to use that as ammunition ten years from now when you choose not to listen to me,” she gloats. A smile creeps up on her face, and she’s finding Laurel’s relationship to be very beneficial for her friend -- for once, Laurel is taking a leap of faith and enjoying every bit of it.

“ _Sure, whatever works for you._ ” Felicity giggles and barely misses bumping into someone. She stops right before she embarrasses herself, and thanks Fate for not making her day any worse. “ _But I was thinking: since it’s the weekend and The Hamptons is only two hours away from Metropolis, why don’t you join me?_ ”

Apparently, her conversation with Laurel is turning out to be full of surprises. She catches herself from halting in the middle of sidewalk once again, and as Felicity attempts to process the information she can’t help but wonder why Laurel’s asking her to join.

“I – why would I? You’re on vacation with Tommy, not me.” Felicity nears an intersection and waits for the walk signal to turn on, her legs now aching from the fast paced walking and high heels. “And I already bought my plane ticket for tonight. I don’t know how I would tell my supervisor I wasted 250 dollars of QC’s money so I could go to The Hamptons,” she says dubiously. Why in the world is Laurel expecting her to drop everything and join them? Felicity has a job – an important one at that, not to mention she doesn’t want to impose on Tommy and Laurel’s getaway.

“ _I know_ ,” Laurel admits. “ _But Tommy knows someone at the airport who can change your flight free of charge. All he has to do is call them."_

Felicity’s just about to cross the intersection when Laurel takes a deep breath and prepares for the final blow. Oh no. Anytime Laurel tries to persuade Felicity to do something, Laurel usually has the most convincing final argument and manages sway her every single time. Felicity is immune to Laurel’s counter arguments, mainly because she has a weak excuse ninety percent of the time.  

“ _We haven’t had time to actually be together, and . . . I really want you to meet Tommy. You’re an important part of my life, and I want you to be a part of this. Please Smoaky, I really want you to come.”_

Perfect. Just perfect.

Not only did Laurel manage to bring up their failed vacation and lack of bonding time, she’s tapped into Felicity’s very emotional heart and used Tommy as an excuse. Grumbling, Felicity stands back and doesn’t cross the street; her mind spins in circles while her heart pumps loudly. What should she do? The overworked part of her wants to go so she can relax on the beach, and the loyal part of her wants to be there for Laurel. Felicity’s never been to The Hamptons, and she suspects Tommy’s house is large and has a decked out bar. She has been beyond exhausted from work lately, and if Tommy can change her flight with no extra charge . . .

Groaning, Felicity presses the phone against her mouth and reluctantly says, “Fine. You win. But I’m heading straight back to Star City no later than Sunday afternoon.”

Laurel screams so loud that Felicity has to move her phone away from her ear, but as her friend rambles off how excited she is, Felicity can’t resist from smiling the entire three blocks it takes to get back to work. After all, a vacation is still a vacation.

* * *

Laurel’s phone shuts off, her left ear still ringing from the city noises that emanated from Felicity’s end. Tossing her phone on the bed and collapsing on top of it, Laurel grins widely and can’t contain her excitement. She kicks her feet in the air for a quick moment, her chest swelling as her mind rapidly plans out their entire weekend. She’s starting to mentally plan their Saturday afternoon when Tommy’s footsteps echo in the hallway, signaling his presence. Laurel props her elbows on the bed and sits up halfway, her legs grazing the floor.

As she waits for him to come, Laurel glances around her room -- it’s cozy and reminds her of a bed and breakfast her family stayed in when they visited New Orleans. The three of the four walls are painted a light beige, but the final wall where her headboard rests is a mix between a baby blue and turquoise color. The decor and furniture is, as Tommy explained, handcrafted from an Amish community somewhere in Pennsylvania, a place Tommy used to visit often with his mother before she passed away. She likes the room, but seeing that she’s spent every night in Tommy’s bed since they’ve arrived, she hasn’t had much time to lounge in here.

“There you are,” Tommy greets, his tall and lean frame covering the doorway. Laurel smiles warmly and drinks in his appearance; he’s changed from his pajamas and opted to wear to a blue collared shirt with khakis. His dark hair is illuminated by the sunlight filtering in from the room’s window, his skin glowing from the warmth. “What did Felicity say?”

“Felicity said yes." Sitting up, Laurel pats the area beside her and motions for Tommy to sit next to her. He complies and the bed dips a little lower, the bed frame creaking slightly. He smells fresh and clean, his cologne lightly filling up her nostrils. It even smells expensive. “Seems like we won’t have the house to ourselves,” she says softly, a hint of flirtation lacing her comment.

Tommy grins and gently undresses her with his eyes. Laurel hadn’t expected to sleep with him on this trip -- in fact, they had agreed to have separate rooms -- but she found herself unable to resist. It’s been a week filled with lazy breakfasts, interesting strolls on the beach, and passionate evenings curled up naked by the fire.  She’s falling head over heels for him, but she doesn’t want to stop. What she has with Tommy . . . She’s never felt this _alive_ before.

“We can stay here after the weekend, you know, once they leave,” Tommy suggests. Leaning forward, his eyes glance down at her lips. “Then I can have you each and every hour of the day, take as long as I want . . .” His voice drops an octave, and Laurel finds herself entranced by his husky promises, her skin slightly heating up. “But for now, I’m going to set up the beer pong table so you and I can duke it out.”

Laurel scoffs and pushes him lightly; he nearly hypnotized her with his sinful words. Tommy laughs before saying, “Hey, I have to speak to Doug ASAP, otherwise he won’t be able to change Felicity’s flight for free. I also have to make a few other calls, so if you want to head out for a bit you’re more than welcome to.”

She contemplates for a moment. “I was going to get some things ready for Felicity, but it can wait.” Yesterday afternoon, she shopped at the grocery store to stock up on food for the weekend, and she bought enough food for at least three people. “Why, did you need something?”

Tommy shakes his head, “Nah. Well, I kind of . . .” He brings up a hand and rakes it through his thick hair, a nervous habit he has. Laurel’s suddenly worried it might be serious. “I kind of invited Oliver over for the weekend?” Apologetically, he looks at her and quickly says, “He’s really exhausted from work. I hope you don’t mi--”

“No, not at all!” A bout of nervousness hits her and a large amount of saliva pools inside her mouth; she swallows thickly and tries her very best to look unaffected by the news. “I’m glad he’s coming. I want to get to know him." It’s the truth, but she can’t exactly tell Tommy that Felicity hates Oliver’s guts when he’s so excited about them hanging out. The possible clusterfuck is making her anxious. “You guys are practically attached to the hip,” Laurel manages to say. “Like Felicity and I.”

Tommy’s eyes widen and he says enthusiastically, “Exactly! They’re our best friends who need a small vacation, and I would like to know Felicity as well.” He smiles warmly as he gets up, and a sinking resignation hits Laurel once she remembers how bad this situation might be. “I should go before I offend anybody by not calling them back.”

“OK,” Laurel squeaks out. Tommy kisses her lightly on her cheek and leaves her room, his heavy footsteps ricocheting off the walls as he heads into the office. For a solid minute, Laurel sits perfectly still on the bed, her mind racing as she tries to find solutions to this problem.

She fails.

Letting out a shaky breath, Laurel woefully looks at her phone and contemplates telling Felicity that Oliver’s coming as well. She knows Felicity’s going to kill her once she finds out, but if she tells her the truth Felicity will never accept another vacation offer by her. This is their one and only chance to have fun . . . And if it means withholding some information, then so be it. Felicity’s threats, which usually include hacking into her bank account and erase Laurel Lance from all the databases in the world, don’t scare her.

All right, maybe just a little.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Please share on Tumblr if you liked it!](http://hoodiesandcomputers.tumblr.com/post/95498304020/this-is-the-way-youll-remember-me-chapter-2)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity joins Laurel and Tommy at the Hamptons, but little does she know, someone else will be visiting as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say or how to apologize for updating so, so late. RL got in the way and I lost my muse for this story. I hate being that kind of author who rarely updates, but I'm hoping once things simmer down I can start focusing on this. 
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient, reading and reviewing, and I want to thank NocturnalRites for being so wonderful and editing this chapter... multiple times. I couldn't have done it without her. :D
> 
> Thanks again!

The bus lurches to a stop, causing Felicity to grab onto the seat in front of her so tight her knuckles turn white. She barely manages to hold onto her purse before everything falls on the floor. Cursing under her breath, Felicity straightens herself out and glares at the driver, hoping her scathing look will set him on fire.

As Felicity glances out the window, she spots faint lights from stores and houses. It’s well into the evening, and considering it’s off-season, she wonders if anyone else is even going to the Hamptons. The bus is somewhat crowded, but she might be the only person getting off here. Sure enough, when the door opens and Felicity stands, no one else is standing with her. Suddenly feeling awkward, Felicity hurriedly gathers her items and does her best not to hit someone with her large purse.

Gingerly, she steps down and sees the baggage compartment open for her. The driver stands next to it, his disinterest painfully apparent. Clutching her purse, she bends to retrieve her carry-on, her knees cracking as she does so. Thankfully her bag is in the front, but when she goes to lift up her suitcase the wheel gets stuck.  She attempts to yank it loose, and after two more tries she nearly gives up.

“Need a hand?”

Felicity turns and sees Laurel grinning, and she smiles in return. “That would be fantastic.”

Laurel approaches the baggage compartment and lifts up the suitcase blocking her luggage, while Felicity pulls it out as fast as she can. The driver doesn’t spare a second and immediately closes the compartment -- clearly, they’re in a hurry to leave.

Rolling her eyes at the obvious dismissal, Laurel asks, “Ready to go?”

“Definitely.” Felicity steps away from the bus stop and finds the rest of the parking lot is covered in gravel, and not at all the smooth concrete she was expecting. “This is a hazard,” she huffs. Her heels are powerless against the gravel, and her ankles dangerously roll as she takes another step. “That’s it -- I’m going to die here.”

Laughing, Laurel halts her steps and places a hand on her hip. “Trust me, _nothing_ is going to happen. I already have things planned out, and I got your favorite red wine,” she tempts. “It’s going to be the best weekend you’ve ever had.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” With her luggage in tow, Felicity teeters her way out of the parking lot, and when they turn a corner there’s a black car sitting in the parking lot. And it looks exceptionally fancy.

Stepping closer to the car, Felicity whistles. It’s sleek and modern, and all the windows are tinted. “Let me guess, this was lying around in Tommy’s garage and he let you borrow it for the week?”

Laurel, a few steps behind, scoffs and presses on the car’s remote. “No, but he did pick me up with this car. And he lets me use it whenever I need to.” The trunk opens smoothly and she dumps Felicity’s carryon inside. Laurel approaches the front door and unlocks the car, while Felicity circles around to the other side of it and promptly sits inside. Laurel slams the door shut and admits, “It’s a little too fancy for me. But it gets the job done.”

“Fancy doesn’t even cover how expensive this is.” It’s covered in all black leather, it has state of the art technology, and from the looks of it the car seems to be custom made.

Laurel shrugs. “Thank God I don’t own it. I wouldn’t know how to handle driving it.” Winking at Felicity, she puts the key in the ignition and the car purrs to life.

“I have a feeling this can drive over water,” Felicity jokes. Laurel shakes her head in amusement as she reverses the car, and soon enough they’re on their way to Tommy’s vacation home.

As they drive to Tommy’s house Felicity is charmed by the Hamptons’ quaintness. Faint lights from inside the houses illuminate their beauty, the air is clear as it can be, and it makes Felicity feel safe. Hardly any cars whizz by and there’s minimal activity outside – she certainly doesn’t miss Starling’s noisy streets filled with pedestrians.

Deep in her thoughts, she doesn’t hear Laurel asking her a question until she smacks Felicity on her arm. “Ow!” Angrily rubbing her arm, she whips her head to the side and glares at Laurel. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re so stuck inside your head you didn’t even notice we’re _here_.”

“Oh, that was a short ride.” Felicity looks out the window, and a large light-brown house with a three-car garage greeting her. Despite its grandeur, it looks welcoming, and the front lawn is perfectly groomed with daisies planted near the entranceway.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity gets out of the car and observes her surroundings. There are two other houses next to Tommy’s but they’re spread far apart. The beach can be seen from this vantage point, the cool air fanning Felicity’s skin. The air smells different – it’s cleaner and a bit salty. It bites her skin while simultaneously soothing it.

Any reservations she might have had about this vacation are completely gone now, and she happily goes to the trunk to retrieve her carryon. “Well?”

Smiling, Felicity jokingly pretends to scrutinize the home. “It could take some more work.”

Sensing the facetiousness, Laurel rolls her eyes and links her arm through Felicity’s. “Come on, let’s go inside the not-so-great house.”

Felicity grabs her luggage and slowly walks inside Tommy’s vacation home. A well-lit foyer immediately greets her – it has a large table in the middle with a beautiful chandelier hovering above, and a couple of expensive chairs patiently sit to her right. The stairs leading to the second floor are on the other side of the room, and elegant French doors block the beach’s entrance.

“Wow. Now _this_ is what I call a vacation home.”

Laurel takes Felicity’s hand. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. Why don’t you freshen up a bit then we can have dinner?”

Felicity nods in agreement while Laurel takes charge and leads her up the stairs. Just as she’s about to take her first step, she hears a loud “Laurel?” and freezes. When she turns around, she’s greeted by Tommy Merlyn’s smiling face. “Felicity!” he booms.

“Hi, Tommy,” she says, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you someplace other than a club.”

Tommy chuckles. “I wish I could say I remember meeting you, but I don’t,” he teases.

“Tommy,” Laurel admonishes.

He glances at her briefly before returning his attention back to Felicity. “I hope the ride here was okay. The one time I took public transportation was when I came here for spring break, and Oliver and I almost got kicked off for doing . . .” He seems a bit flustered and quickly laughs it off, and for one glorious moment Felicity realizes she’s not the only one who’s unable to withhold information. This is _great_ news.

Trying to change the subject, Tommy reaches for Felicity’s bag. “Here, let me take your luggage upstairs.”

“It’s fine, I got it. And by the way, thank you for changing my flight at the last minute and letting me stay here.”

“Oh, it’s nothing really. It’s the least I can do for Laurel’s best friend.” His eyes touch upon Laurel as he speaks and Felicity has to smile at the sign of affection.

“This is your home too. Don’t hesitate to do whatever you want.”

“Absolutely.”

Tommy opens his mouth to say something else, but he stops himself short and laughs nervously. “Well, I’ll be down in the kitchen preparing dinner and trying my best not to burn everything.” He smiles one more time before spinning on his heels and heading straight to the kitchen.

She’s enamored by Laurel’s boyfriend, and Felicity is excited she’s getting a chance to hang out with Tommy. “He is so adorable. Can I keep him?” she whispers to Laurel as they start up the stairs.

“That depends – what do you want him for?”

“Hmm . . . It would be nice to have him as my cuddle buddy.”

Laurel’s laugh echoes in the hallway as she takes a right.   “But that’s going to be a problem since he’s _my_ cuddle buddy.”

Gasping, Felicity asks “Did you two have sex?” Not even bothering to take in her surroundings, Felicity quickly ditches her heels and luggage.  “Laurel, did you two do the frick-frack? The PB&J? The –”

“Yes we did!” Laurel shuts the door behind her and sits on the bed, her eyes shining and a grin forming on her lips. “Just don’t scream it at the top of your lungs.”

“Tell me everything!” Felicity excitedly flops on the very plush bed and rolls onto her elbows. “But not all of it because, well, that’s gross. And actually, if we’re planning on hanging out with Tommy all the time then I don’t want to imagine you two doing the . . . thing.” Clearing her throat she mutters, “Hello, weird.”

“Oh my God, Felicity, you’re making this so much worse.”

“I’m sorry!” Felicity grabs onto Laurel cold hand and tightens her hold around it. “I’m _so_ happy you’re getting laid – God knows you needed it – and clearly Tommy’s done a good job since you look like you’ve been on a honeymoon.” She ostentatiously scans Laurel from head to toe and sassily adds, “Mm hmm. _Definitely_ on honeymoon central.” 

Laurel reddens immediately. “Do I really?”

“Well, yes, but there’s nothing wrong with it. I’m messing with you.”

“Figures,” Laurel says playfully, rolling her eyes.

From downstairs echoes the hollow bang and clatter of pots and pans, and Laurel winces. “Clearly dinner is nowhere being done.”

“Think I might have time to get a bubble bath?”

“Go for it. I swear Felicity, the bath salts are like special crystals from Heaven.  Use anything you want.  It’s _amazing_.” Another loud sound emanates from the kitchen; they flinch when Tommy loudly swears.  Laurel leaps up from the bed. “While you’re doing that, I’d better go see if I can prevent a dinner disaster.”

Felicity’s extremely close to laughing when Laurel bolts out of the room and heads down to the kitchen. From the sound of it, she’d better hurry if she wants to get her bubble bath in before the house burns down.

She is going to take _full_ advantage of this vacation.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Felicity’s wrapped in a warm, fluffy sweater, parked in the perfect spot near the fire pit, and tucking into what seems like the best meal she’s had in weeks.  It’s the first home cooked one she’s had in a while; with the hours she’s working, dinner’s been grab and go from the nearest fast food joint or worse, stale crackers and bad candy from the office vending machines. Gathering a forkful of pasta, she pops it into her mouth and closes her eyes, not bothering to stifle her moan of pleasure.  She hears Laurel laugh softly, and when she opens her eyes Laurel and Tommy are grinning madly. “This is like eating a slice of Italian heaven.”

Leaning forward and getting a piece of bread, Tommy says, “Glad you like it.” He relaxes back in his chair and glances at Laurel fondly. “I can’t take all the credit though.”

Laurel shrugs. “You did fine except for almost burning the house down.”  Tommy pretends to look affronted but he laughs anyway, and Felicity watches the two lovebirds from afar. She’s amazed at how relaxed Laurel appears to be. Felicity’s caught Laurel gazing at Tommy one too many times tonight, and each time she does Felicity can’t restrain herself from smiling like a fool. Seeing how well they cooked dinner together might be an indicator of how perfect they are.

“Where did you get the recipe for the sauce?” she asks. “It’s amazing.”

She knows instantly she’s said the wrong thing when Tommy stiffens. “It’s actually my mother’s recipe,” he says, sounding as if he’s trying too hard to sound casual; instead, it comes off as brittle and forced.  

An uncomfortable silence envelops them as Felicity tries to figure out what she’s done wrong.  “She must be very proud you can cook so well,” she ventures.

“Yeah . . . I’d like to think she is,” he softly agrees. His jaw tightens for a split second and he focuses on the plate in front of him, avoiding eye contact. Gathering whatever courage he has, Tommy glances at Felicity and smiles fondly. Over to the side Laurel reaches for his hand and firmly grasps it, her eyes communicating to Tommy she’s here for him. _Oh no_. “She . . . died.  A long time ago. Obviously you wouldn’t know, but at least we got her recipes.”

Felicity’s heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach. She can see how much her death affected Tommy, and she wished Laurel had warned her before sticking her foot in her mouth and hurting Tommy.

Felicity self-consciously shifts in her seat and tries to remedy the situation. “Well, thank you Mrs. Merlyn,” she says, raising her wine glass in a toast. She’s not sure if it’s the right thing to say, but she hopes it’s enough to make Tommy feel better.

Thankfully, Tommy’s shoulders relax and he toys with his glass. Inhaling deeply, Tommy makes a move to get up and offers, “I’m going to get another bottle of wine. Should I get more salad?”

“That would be great.” Laurel hands him the salad bowl and nods as she does so, silently reassuring him everything is all right. Felicity feels she’s intruding on a personal moment and looks away.

Tommy exits the room and shuts the door behind him, leaving Laurel and Felicity alone in their thoughts. Felicity absentmindedly twirls her fork on her plate, calmly listening to the ocean waves, when Laurel breaks the silence. “I need to tell you something.”

“Shoot. You’re not going to kick me out, are you?”

“No. Never.” Laurel hesitates for a moment and avoids making eye contact. “But . . .”

“Now I’m concerned. What’s wrong?”

Laurel shifts uncomfortably, avoiding Felicity’s gaze. “It’s nothing massive or anything, but . . . Oliver is coming to stay for the weekend. He’s coming tonight actually.”

Felicity’s heart thuds and her ears burn. “Oliver Twist?”

“No. Oliver _Queen_.”

“Are you shitting _me_?” Words begin to spill out of her mouth, but she can’t help it – a small part of her feels betrayed. “I thought this was supposed to be a vacation, not a torture session with Starling’s resident idiot! And how many times do I have to tell you _he is my boss_! A boss who can get me _fired!_ ” Her voices rises and upon seeing Laurel’s eyes widen she attempts to rein herself in.

“Stop overreacting, Felicity!” Laurel whispers. She too leans forward as she tries to keep the conversation hushed, but Felicity’s having none of it.

“Did you really say that?” Scoffing, Felicity throws her hands in the air and angrily adds, “I have a _very_ important job I need to keep. This is unprofessional on my part.”

She’s frustrated Laurel doesn’t realize the gravity of her situation. Queen Consolidated is a multibillion-dollar corporation with a lot of eyes and ears. If people start to hear about Felicity hanging out with Tommy and Oliver, she’s going to lose her credibility and be mistaken for sleeping her way to the top. Felicity has achieved far too much to lose everything in an instant.

Laurel snorts. “You’re being overly dramatic. First, he’s not your boss. Second, you don’t have to hang out with him.”

Closing her eyes and calming herself, Felicity attempts to explain as best as she can. “Laurel, I don’t want people to assume I’m smooching up with America’s biggest playboy as I’m trying to get a promotion. How can you not get it?” Exasperated, Felicity finishes the rest of her wine in one gulp and lets the alcohol burn. She needs another bottle.

Now _that_ finally shuts Laurel up. She opens her mouth to counter Felicity’s argument when she promptly closes it back up. Unwilling to admit her mistake, Laurel diverts Felicity’s very real problem and justifies, “I . . . couldn’t say no to inviting Oliver when he’s Tommy’s best friend. I didn’t think it was going to be a problem, I swear.  And since he _is_ Tommy’s best friend, I would like to get to know Oliver better.”

A bubble of sarcasm comes up to the surface and Felicity scoffs, “How convenient that _you_ choose to hang out with Oliver the same weekend _I’m_ here!”

“Of course it’s convenient because _it is a weekend_!” Laurel’s getting riled up too, but she takes a deep breath and controls herself. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I really wanted you to meet Tommy, and I was afraid you’d go nuts on me and cancel the vacation. I didn’t think how it could damage your career possibilities, but you’ll only be here for a couple of days. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“For starters, a while back he brought his laptop to the IT department, and he told me he watched porn on the same computer I touched, which is why he needed help getting rid of the viruses.” She shudders as she remembers their conversation, and her annoyance reaches an unprecedented new level. “This is the kind of stuff I do _not_ want to deal with this weekend.”

Laurel’s clearly taken aback. “Um, well, that’s unfortunate.” She puts a small piece of arugula in her mouth and chews as she thinks. “But –”

“You think?” Felicity sizes her up. She just wants Laurel to admit she made a mistake. _And_ possibly kick Oliver out of the house.

“But if you stick with me you’ll be completely fine,” Laurel lamely suggests.

“I don’t believe you.” Glancing up, she sees Tommy coming with a full bowl of salad and a new bottle of wine. Leaning across the table once more, Felicity hisses, “Thanks for the not-so heads up. This is all on you.”

Laurel’s face darkens and she clenches her jaw, but before she can say anything back Tommy loudly opens the door. He immediately slows his steps as he’s greeted with a cold reception, his eyes darting back and forth between Laurel and Felicity. Clearing his throat he says, “Alright, more salad and wine for you ladies!” He ostentatiously places the bowl in the middle of the table and the wine bottle next to Felicity, clearly trying to alleviate the tension between them.

“Thanks Tommy,” Laurel manages to say. She immediately takes a spoonful of salad and dumps it on her plate, her sour expression raising a questioning eyebrow from Tommy.

“Ditto,” Felicity bitterly adds as she lays claim on the wine bottle.

This is officially the worst weekend ever, she thinks, and it hasn’t even _started_.

* * *

 The clock reads one in the morning, and despite lying in bed for nearly three hours Felicity hasn’t been able to fall asleep. Felicity’s less than civil conversation with Laurel has her mind spinning, preventing her from focusing on anything else. It’s silly, really, letting their disagreement get to her, but she can’t help it.

Although she regrets exploding on Laurel, she doesn’t feel her anger is misplaced. Felicity has fought tooth and nail to rise up the ranks at QC. As a certified genius _and_ a woman, working in IT has its ups and downs. There is an indescribable amount of prejudice in the workplace, and she’s had to prove herself time and time again. Felicity’s afraid one small rumor could turn into a debacle.

Regardless, she can understand where Laurel is coming from. Laurel is Tommy’s boyfriend, and being near him doesn’t necessarily make her guilty by association. Thankfully, it’s off season at the Hamptons, and that means no prying eyes. As long as this will be the only time she sees Oliver outside of the office, Felicity supposes the situation isn’t entirely serious.

At the moment Oliver’s presence, although unpleasant, is unavoidable -- she’ll simply have to suck it up. After weeks of stress and numerous projects, Felicity had hoped an impromptu vacation would give her a chance to relax. She shouldn’t let Oliver’s arrival hinder her enjoyment.

A couple of minutes pass as Felicity lies restlessly when she decides to get up and eat a snack. Throwing the plush blanket aside, she grabs a green hoodie from her college days and stealthily pads down the stairs to the kitchen, oblivious to someone silently hovering in front of the fridge.

She yelps and jumps back, her hand immediately coming up to rest above her heart. It takes her another moment to realize the man is not a threat, but Oliver Queen himself.

“Oh my God, you scared me!” Felicity takes a few deep breaths and attempts to calm herself down, thankful she’s covered up and somewhat presentable. Oliver, on the other hand, is shirtless and sweating profusely, a pair of headphones dangling around his neck.

She would be lying if she didn’t take a moment to look at Oliver’s body, because there are rumors and then there’s the _truth_. He’s all muscle and without a single inch of fat, his skin smooth and unblemished. She takes a moment to survey the dips and curves before her gaze lands on Oliver’s cerulean eyes, lit with curiosity and a hint of amusement. For a fleeting moment her chest swells, the feeling completely unknown to her, and it causes her to snap out of her daze.

 _What am I doing?_ Her face heats until she’s sure Oliver can see her blushing despite it being nighttime. Horrified by her unwarranted thoughts, Felicity silently counts backwards from three to rid her head of such imagery.

“Sorry. I was out on a late night run and needed a drink.” Turning, he shuts the refrigerator door, plunging the room into darkness. She can hear the gurgle and the crinkle of the bottle as he drinks greedily.

Before she can embarasses herself further, Felicity quickly says, “Right. Well, I wanted to eat a little bit before going to bed.” Slapping her palms against her thighs and trying to make the situation over as fast as possible, she adds, “I really like the ice cream Laurel brought.”

_Of all the things I could’ve said . . ._

Oliver nods and finishes drinking the entire bottle. “OK. Cool.”

Rolling his shoulders back, he crushes the bottle and throws it inside the trashcan, even though there’s a recycling bin next to it. How typical – _of course_ Oliver wouldn’t bother recycling, even though QC has spent the last five years attempting to be a global leader in renewable energy sources. Oliver Queen is certainly _not_ a model QC employee.

“Yep.”

Facing her once more, he stands in the middle of the kitchen and doesn’t move. Oliver doesn’t say anything and neither does Felicity; the silence becomes embarrassingly awkward and for once Felicity can’t produce a single sentence to alleviate the awkwardness.

“I’m just going to . . .” She points at the fridge and steps forward.

Oliver softly says “Oh” and makes a movement to leave at the same time she walks towards the freezer. His large frame blocks Felicity from her destination, his shoulders barring her line of sight. She takes a tiny step back to distance herself -- even though Oliver is a playboy whose reputation is known to everybody, she’s powerless when it comes to well-defined chests.

She mentally groans and kicks herself in the head. Of all the men she could admire, it’s Oliver Queen’s body she’s staring at. Not wanting to get sidetracked by his physique _again_ , Felicity forces herself to focus on something else.

Once her brain clears she can smell his sweat, mixed in with a hint of salt and something a bit woodsey, filling in her nostrils. She wrinkles her nose to push the smell away. Regaining her composure, Felicity steps to the right and Oliver immediately follows -- now they’re right back to square one.

Finally looking up at Oliver, Felicity suggests, “How about I go to the left and you go to the right.”

“Good idea.”

They move in a synchronized fashion and away from each other’s way; Felicity quietly sighs in relief. Free from Oliver’s suffocating presence, Felicity opens the freezer and takes out her ice cream.

“Do you plan on staying here to eat?” Oliver asks.

He stops at the window and turns to her, moonlight from the nearby window glistening off a sheen of sweat. Despite his disarray, everything about him screams arrogance. It irritates Felicity how unfazed he is by his half-naked state, because although Oliver might feel comfortable parading around shirtless, Felicity finds herself annoyingly flustered. He’s throwing her off -- he’s not supposed to be handsome _and_ an idiot _and_ distracting her from snack time.

Felicity frowns. “Uh, yeah.” She shuts the freezer and proceeds to take a bowl from one of the cabinets, eyeing Oliver carefully.

He takes a deep breath then advises, “I . . . wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Why’s that?” Felicity is getting frustrated Oliver hasn’t left yet. She begins to scoop out spoonfuls of ice cream and dumps it in her bowl, hoping her clipped replies will convince Oliver to leave her alone.

Oliver fidgets from side to side and purses his lips, frustrated she’s not listening to him. It’s uncomfortably silent now, and as Felicity is about to put the ice cream back in the freezer, an odd sound floats into the kitchen.

Confused, Felicity glances at Oliver. “Did you hear that?”

He smirks and raises an eyebrow. “The fucking can be pretty loud in here, which is why I suggested you shouldn’t stay in the kitchen. But you can stay if you want.” And with that, he spins on his heel and exits the kitchen, leaving Felicity utterly baffled by his comment.

She blankly stares at the empty space where Oliver was standing and automatically dismisses his comment, which naturally had vulgar language, and since it’s coming from Oliver anything he says is nonsense. She doesn’t even know what he’s referring to. _Weird_.

Ignoring his unwanted advice, she walks over to the table and sits down as she finally gets a chance to eat her late night snack. Just as Felicity is about to eat her first bite, she hears another faint sound and immediately stops all other movements.

Unexpectedly, a soft moan migrates into the kitchen, and it takes every ounce of strength to prevent herself from screaming. _Oliver was actually right_. That’s it – she has to get out of here.

Anxiety catches up to her. This is possibly the worst predicament Felicity’s ever been in during a vacation -- there’s _no_ way she’ll be able to act normal and keep her mouth shut when she sees Laurel in the morning. She frets for a moment longer and decides to get out of the kitchen, pronto. Once she manages to pull herself together, Felicity holds the bowl close to her chest as she runs out of there, stealthily sprinting up the stairs in record time and shutting the door as softly as she can.

Closing her eyes in relief, Felicity woefully glances at the bowl and wishes she had twenty tubs of ice cream to get her through the weekend.

She’s not sure if she’ll make it through in one piece by Sunday.

* * *

 Glancing at her watch a fifth time in the past thirty seconds, Felicity finally decides to go downstairs and face Laurel. Gathering her courage, Felicity descends to the kitchen, all bright and white in the morning sun while Laurel’s sitting at the table. The sight of French toast and pancakes on the table makes Felicity’s mouth water, overcoming any reservations she might have about joining Laurel.

Laurel smiles, determined not to let last night’s argument affect her morning. “Hey Felicity! How’d you sleep?”

It appears Laurel is willing to ignore what transpired yesterday, or she might be feeling guilty but not ready to apologize. Although Felicity doesn’t feel comfortable letting their argument hang over their head, she decides to go along with the charade anyway. However, what comes out of her mouth is, “Not too well considering I could hear you guys when I came down to get a snack.”

Laurel reddens instantly. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” She brings her right leg up and wraps both arms around it, her embarrassment getting to her. “Tommy said it would be fine and I thought I was being quiet –”

“Now _that’s_ enough information for today,” Felicity cringes. She can’t resist smiling though, so she changes the subject. “I’m going to, uh, eat some breakfast.”

Laurel visibly relaxes. “I got your favorite cereal in case you didn’t want to eat a heavy breakfast, and there’s fresh coffee,” she adds hurriedly. “And I was thinking we could go and take in the sights. What do you say?”

“Can I make a decision once I’ve had my coffee?” Right on cue her stomach grumbles.

“Oh right. I should know better.” Felicity swiftly gets up and walks over to the counter, picking up an empty mug and pouring coffee as fast as she can before she crashes from lack of caffeine.

There’s a moment of silence until Laurel breaks it. “Felicity, I need to tell you something.”

“OK.” Watching Laurel warily, she wonders what’s coming next.

“I’m . . . sorry I didn’t tell you about Oliver. I didn’t realize the _extent_ of how Oliver’s lifestyle could hurt your career possibilities, but he is who he is and I should’ve kept that in mind.” She toys with the table cloth. “I got wrapped up in wanting everyone to be happy, and I thought if I didn’t tell you things would still be okay, that _we_ would figure it out.” Smiling tiredly, she says again, “I really am sorry.”

“Thanks Laurel. I appreciate it.” This trip is anything but perfect, yet she knows Laurel had good intentions for this vacation.She wishes Laurel told her beforehand, but Laurel’s right -- they always find a way to fix things _together_.

Now it’s her turn to apologize. “Hey Laurel?”

“Hmm?”

Felicity fidgets slightly and taps her mug. “I’m sorry I yelled at you about _You Know Who_. He . . . gets on my nerves, and the whole point of a vacation is to let loose.”

“Apology accepted." 

Felicity smiles and continues. “But I want you to know . . . I think you’re misunderstanding how serious the situation _can_ be.”

“Oh.” Laurel’s face falls.

“I don’t want you to feel bad,” Felicity says hastily. “People can twist a simple vacation to something else as I’m working towards a promotion. And the guys in the IT department _love_ to gossip.” She wrinkles her nose in distaste and sighs. “I know you didn’t _mean_ any harm, but I hope you get where I’m coming from.”

Laurel’s nods in understanding. “I promise to not do it again.”

“It’s okay. Seriously.” Glad things have settled, Felicity comes over to the table and sits back down, promptly putting a pancake on her plate and dumping a gallon of syrup.

“Did you see him yet?”

She pauses as her conversation with Oliver plays out in her head, and she can feel her blush creeping up again as her mind assaults her with Oliver’s body. “Uh yes. For a bit. I came to the kitchen to get some ice cream, he scared me, and told me not to sit here because the . . . noises are louder in here.”

“Shit.” Laurel guiltily looks at her and bites her lip, humiliation getting to her.

“It’s fine. Although, I must say it’s pretty cute when you’re all flustered.” She doesn’t miss Laurel’s eye narrowing. Taking another sip of coffee, Felicity adds, “It’s nice to see someone else get embarrassed instead of me.”

Placing a hand above her chest, Laurel gasps dramatically and Felicity giggles, thankful things are back to normal. Pointing a finger at Felicity, Laurel sternly threatens, “Just you –”

“Morning!”

Felicity flinches from Tommy’s voice and nearly chokes. He bounces into the room and promptly kisses Laurel on her forehead, his hand caressing her head. Laurel visibly blushes but Tommy is unfazed, and he glances up momentarily and says, “Hey, Felicity!” She grunts a reply because she’s still not ready for his cheerfulness this early in the morning.

Tommy bustles about in the kitchen as he and Laurel talk about their plans for today. Felicity begins to eat her pancake, but over to the side she notices Tommy producing two mugs and promptly pours coffee into them. Oh no -- it seems Oliver might be coming into the kitchen.

He catches Felicity’s wandering eye and beams at her. Better pay attention now. “Well ladies, don’t do anything I would do,” Tommy adds with a wink.

“That doesn’t stop us from doing much,” Laurel snorts.

Felicity grins; she can only imagine the kind of things Tommy does on a regular basis. He laughs, the sound echoing off the walls and brightening the room even more, and for a brief moment everything seems all right.

At least until Oliver barges in.

He’s wearing a shirt and shorts, and his hooded eyes indicate he had little sleep. Muttering a “Hello” he heads straight into his coffee, and doesn’t bother to spare a glance at either Felicity or Laurel.

Closing her eyes and praying for an extra dose of patience, Felicity focuses back on her breakfast.

“Hey Oliver,” Laurel greets nervously. It dawns on Felicity this may be Laurel’s first actual interaction with Oliver, and seeking his approval might be important for her best friend. Taking a quick peek at Oliver, she silently shoots daggers and telepathically attempts to convince him to be nice to Laurel.

“So what do you guys have planned?” Oliver asks. He’s leaning against the counter, nursing his cup of coffee. Tommy’s next to him and drinking from his cup, and it isn’t long before Oliver pokes Tommy’s side. Tommy instantly slaps Oliver’s hand away and tries to step on his foot; Oliver barely escapes. _They’re such boys_.

“We were going to sightsee.” Laurel smiles at Oliver and thankfully he smiles back, which makes Laurel perk up.

“Laurel, you should show Felicity the Farmer’s Market,” Tommy recommends.

Oliver nods. “That’s a good place to start. You two should definitely check out the lighthouse too, it’s neat.”

“Good idea. What do you say, Felicity?” Laurel asks.

She’s caught off guard, and doesn’t fail to notice Oliver and Tommy staring at her intently. “Wherever Laurel goes, I go.” _Except for the lighthouse because Oliver suggested it._

Laurel excitedly claps her hands. “Perfect!” Over to the side Felicity spots Oliver and Tommy exchanges glances – Tommy’s smiling nervously whereas Oliver raises an eyebrow, his inquisitive look effectively wiping Tommy’s smile off his face. Felicity doesn’t like how the silent exchange between them looks, but all she can do for now is simply wait and see.

The rest of breakfast goes by with no fanfare – Oliver leaves as soon as he finishes his coffee, and Tommy hangs around for a minute later before chasing after his friend. Once Felicity finishes her pancakes and (second) cup of coffee, Laurel cheerily asks, “Ready?”

Felicity’s not sure if backing out on their plans will help, but she grins anyway and cheerily says, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

* * *

The market is incredibly charming – there are handmade items in nearly every booth they visit, and the produce looks positively delicious. The people are very welcoming, and Felicity finds herself enjoying the slightly chilly afternoon. She’s never been to the countryside – Vegas is far from homely and country, and Star City is too gritty to sustain such a fantasy. But she likes this, even if it’s for one small weekend. Maybe she’ll come back in the future.

Laurel and Felicity absentmindedly walk until they see another booth filled with fresh blueberry smoothies and assorted fruits to take home. “Oohing” at the smoothies, Laurel promptly digs into her purse for cash, only to realize she’s already spent it all. She pouts. “Do you have a ten?”

Sighing, Felicity produces a ten and sees her money supply is dwindling. “You’re going to have to pay me back one day.” Laurel smirks and buys her drink, and as she does so Felicity takes a good look at her surroundings. It’s peaceful here, and despite her earlier fears Felicity finds herself relaxing during this mini vacation.

“How long do you and Tommy plan on staying here?” Felicity stops and plants herself on the grass, patting the area next to her, trying to get Laurel to sit down and talk. Her friend frowns but sits down anyway, drink in hand.

Shrugging, Laurel glances out at the scenery in front of her and sighs. “Not sure. I don’t have a job, Tommy doesn’t do anything, and I kind of like it here.” She grins at the last part and blushes slightly.

Felicity watches Laurel carefully, because this is a whole new side of her best friend she has never seen. It’s incredible. She’s softer and more relaxed now, and Felicity suspects not having to worry about job prospects is causing Laurel to be this way. Perhaps Laurel should stay here for a month or two – a week has done wonders for her already.

“Laurel I . . . honestly don’t think I’ve seen you like this. Ever. I’m –”

“Shocked?” Laurel laughs and sips from her cup, thinking as she does so. “I know I am. I’m really trying to let go, I guess.” She smiles nervously and fondly looks at Felicity. “Thanks for pushing me. I would’ve ignored Tommy had you not encouraged me to take a leap of faith.”

Warmth blossoms inside Felicity, and she melts upon hearing Laurel’s sentiments. “That’s what best friends are for." She grabs a hold of Laurel’s thin fingers and squeezes her hand. “But the next time Oliver’s invited somewhere, I’ll be at home catching up on Netflix.” She frowns then thinks aloud, “Actually, I would probably be in the office and trying to watch Netflix there instead.”

Laurel smiles and firmly presses Felicity’s hand as well. “Duly noted.”

“So I’m assuming Tommy is pretty much perfect, minus his partying tendencies?” 

It takes Laurel a moment to gather her thoughts. “I think before he would . . . try to fill his time being a playboy because it’s all he ever knew? He hasn’t gone out since we started dating, even though I didn’t say anything to him. And I think he has the capability to be in a serious relationship.” She contemplates for awhile, her smoothie left untouched.

“You _think_ he’s capable of being serious, or do you know?” The “think” is worrisome for Felicity – she doesn’t want Laurel to get hurt in the future all because Tommy doesn’t know how to keep his pants zipped. While Tommy may have filled his time with booze and girls just to waste time, the fact that he’s turned around so quickly seems a little off for Felicity. What if he messes up?

“I don’t really know,” Laurel admits. “But for now I’m okay with that.”

This is odd. For as long as Felicity’s known Laurel, her friend has always needed a set plan and a desire to know everything and anything. They’re the same in that respect, but Laurel tends to control everything within her grasp. Seeing Laurel floating along her relationship with Tommy is certainly different and not like the Old Laurel she’s become accustomed to.

Not knowing how to respond, Felicity digests the information and tries to pretend her mind isn’t spinning in circles. “Huh. If it’s what makes you happy then so be it.”

It’s almost laughable how relieved Laurel looks, but then Felicity starts to feel bad for even doubting Laurel’s decisions. Perhaps letting loose and not labeling their relationship is good for Laurel. She’s lived her life constrained by her plans – it’s time Laurel deviates off her path.

Satisfied for now, Felicity tilts her head and proposes, “What do you say – you want to go back to the house and hang out on the beach?” 

Frowning, Laurel takes another sip from her cup and quzzically looks at Felicity. “I thought we were going to go to the lighthouse?”

“Um no.”

Laurel’s taken aback. “Why not?”

“Because . . . Oliver suggested going there and I don’t want to listen to his suggestions.”

Laurel smacks her hand against her forehead and laughs loudly. It isn’t long before Felicity’s burst into a fit of giggles, and as they get up and walk towards the car, Felicity almost forgets about Oliver ruining her vacation. Almost. 

* * *

 They arrive at the house in twenty minutes and they go straight to the family room, dumping their bags on the couches. It’s quiet in the house, for which Felicity is grateful. Laurel, not so much.

“Tommy?” She stands in the middle of the room and waits for a reply, except there isn’t one.

Sensing an opportunity, Felicity flops on the couch and puts her hands behind her head. “Don’t do that! We have some time without the guys, so we might as well utilize it.”

“Seriously? _We_ spent three hours together. I’m getting a little tired of you.”

Felicity pretends to look outraged, but nonetheless a chuckle escapes her lips. “I don’t know, it sounds like you miss your boyfriend. You’re whipped.”

Shaking her head, Laurel pointedly ignores Felicity’s suggestive eyebrows. “Fine. Want to walk on the beach before it gets colder?”

“Sure.” She stands up and walks toward the doors leading to the balcony. Opening the doors, a fresh breeze hits her and she marvels as she sees a beautiful terrace. She wasn’t able to see the pool last night, but she can spot it a couple steps below, decked out with a Jacuzzi. From this view the ocean welcomes her with open arms.

“I hadn’t realized how beautiful it really is.” Felicity basks under the sunlight and wraps her sweater around her even closer. The air is slightly chilly but relaxing.  “Now I know why people spend so much money here.”

Laurel comes out to the terrace and wraps an arm around Felicity’s shoulders. “I know I would.” Felicity smiles and the two head towards the stairs leading to the beach. The house is on a bit of a hill, and Felicity’s glad she didn’t wear any heels – a tumble down these stairs would surely kill her.

As they descend the stairs, the crash of waves grows in volume and she hears some yelling. “Are there people on the beach today?”

A few paces ahead of her, Laurel responds, “I guess. Anybody who has a house by the water doesn’t own the beach – obviously – so it’s not unnatural for random people to be in your backyard.”

“Isn’t that a safety concern?”

“Not really. The locals here are nice.”

As they get closer the shouts grow in volume. When they get to the beach, Tommy and Oliver are playing volleyball not far from the landing. At the present Tommy is about to serve while Oliver casually stands and waits for his best friend. They’re both wearing hoodies and shorts, although Oliver’s hoodie has no sleeves.

“Hey guys!” Laurel waves and ditches Felicity, running to Tommy and leaving Felicity no choice but to join.

Felicity bends and unbuckles her sandals before meeting up with the gang. The wind is a bit strong here, so she ties up her hair and approaches everyone, the cool sand massaging her feet. Oliver’s standing further away from the net while Tommy quietly talks to Laurel. Not wanting to be next to Oliver, Felicity stays back. “What’s up?”

Tommy looks up and smiles once he sees Felicity. “Do you want to play?” He tosses the ball in between his hands and raises an eyebrow, challenging her.

“I will if you’re on my team.”

“Good idea!” Laurel exclaims. Laurel steps away and heads towards Oliver’s side. Turning around and facing Oliver, she asks, “Mind if I’m your partner?”

Carefully watching Oliver, Felicity sees him hesitating and she gets a bit angry. What could possibly take him so long to agree? A second later he smiles tightly and manages to say, “Not at all.” Felicity knows Laurel saw the tiny bit of reluctance, but her friend puts on a brave face and pretends she didn’t notice.

Channeling her contempt for Oliver, Felicity joins Tommy and hovers near the net, preparing for a blowout against the competition. Felicity rubs her hands together and points lasers at Laurel, to which she giggles and waves Felicity off. Smiling, Felicity glances back at Tommy and nods, signaling she’s ready.

“Ready to get your asses kicked?” Tommy yells. He steps further back and spins the ball in his hand, his arrogance getting the better of him. He grins at Felicity and prepares to serve.

At the exact moment, Oliver bends and places his hands on his knees, his arm muscles bulging out and accentuating every curve. Felicity sighs -- how could somebody look the way he does and simultaneously have a horrid personality?

Answer: anyone with a large enough trust fund.

Oliver scoffs loudly and haughtily replies, “I’m just trying to remember when you actually did. If memory serves me you never _have_.”

Tommy ignores Oliver’s remarks and serves the ball, hitting hard and fast. Just as the ball flies over the net Felicity’s heart starts to race – playing sports always gets her adrenaline pumping, and the thought of destroying her nemesis delights her. Oliver immediately bumps the ball over the net, ignoring Laurel, which, granted, she’s terrible at volleyball, but he could’ve _tried_.

A gust of wind suddenly comes through, and Felicity takes the opportunity by gently throwing the ball over the net toward Laurel. The wind tosses it at an angle, so when Laurel goes to hit it she misses completely. The ball lands on the sand and Laurel picks it up, blushing furiously.

Handing the ball to her, Laurel says, “I promise I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You did fine. It’s because of the wind, that’s all.” Laurel gives her a silent _thank you_ and goes back to her spot.

“That’s okay, you have plenty of other chances to hit the ball,” Tommy soothes. He’s so nice for noticing Laurel’s discomfort and trying to make it better. Unfortunately, it didn’t necessarily help since Felicity can spot Laurel nervously smiling and pretending Oliver’s disinterest doesn’t bother her. It _definitely_ bothers Felicity.

Felicity hands the ball to Tommy and prepares for his next serve. “One–zero,” he notes, keeping track of the score.

“Won’t be long before it’s a hundred to one,” Oliver interjects. He’s directing his attention to Tommy and disregarding Laurel once again, and Felicity has to roll her eyes because he’s being incredibly ostentatious about it.

 _I’ll get you soon enough_.

“Ha ha, very funny. It’s not going to happen, _Ollie_ ,” Tommy chides. Adjusting her glasses again, Felicity gets ready for another round, her nerves thrumming.

Tommy serves the ball again and Felicity watches it go over the net, ready for whatever Oliver brings. As predicted, Oliver heads straight for the ball – leaving Laurel in the dust – and bumps it over the net, to which Tommy yells “Got it!” He gets closer to the net and sets the ball to Felicity, and she steadies herself. Even though Felicity’s 5’5” she can throw a mean spike. Gathering all her strength, she brings up her right arm and jumps. From her peripheral vision she sees Oliver suddenly coming at her, but she’s confident she can escape his block and give her team a point.

The palm of her hand connects with the ball, but all of a sudden Oliver’s arm crashes on her shoulder, and nothing can prepare her for the ball slamming against the bridge of her nose and against her glasses.

Blinding pain erupts and she recoils, her legs unable to steady her. She collapses onto the sand and her glasses fall too, but she doesn’t care. “Fuck!” She cradles her cheek, afraid if she touches the point of impact she might find blood on her hand. Her shoulder is hurting as well, and if she doesn’t ice it soon she’ll be left with a large bruise or worse.

“Oh my God, are you okay, Felicity?!” Laurel rushes over to her and grabs onto Felicity’s hand, prying it away from her face. Pain makes it impossible for Felicity to open her eyes.  Tears pour down her face -- she tries to force her eyes open, and unfortunately the right one’s giving her trouble.

 _Oliver did this to me_. A slow and simmering fire begins at the pit of her stomach, and her body shakes from adrenaline and anger. If that asshole let Laurel hit the ball then she wouldn’t be in this predicament, and more importantly, had he not agreed to come this weekend she wouldn’t be sitting here having to deal with his presence in general. Screw him.

From her left eye she sees Tommy hovering over her, and he winces once he gets a good look at her. “Ouch. That doesn’t look good,” he diagnoses. Panic takes a hold of her, and based off the looks Tommy and Laurel are giving her she has a feeling she might have to visit a doctor.

“Oh no,” she moans, and she closes her eyes in pain again. A bout of dizziness hits her -- she hangs her head and tries to shove the problem away. If she gets a fracture or a concussion she’s going to sue Oliver for years to come.

“That’s it – we’re taking you to the hospital,” Laurel orders. She makes a move to lift Felicity, but she sticks her hand out and stops Laurel. The dizziness hasn’t subsided yet. She’s in no position to stand up, let alone climb all those stairs.

Tommy and Laurel anxiously wait and watch her, worried she’ll pass out. Laurel holds onto her hand and squeezes it, reassuring her everything will be all right.  “I’m feeling a little dizzy,” Felicity tells them. Just as she lifts her head she sees Oliver to her side, worry etched across his face. _Good. I hope he realizes I’m making a run for his money_.

“Shit,” Tommy says, concern lacing his voice. “Do you have your insurance card, Felicity?”

Felicity opens her mouth to respond, but Oliver steps up and quips, “Of course she does. QC offers top-notch healthcare to all of its employees.” 

He really can’t miss a chance to advertise himself, can he?

She’s going to murder him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Please share on Tumblr if you liked it!](http://hoodiesandcomputers.tumblr.com/post/115820773510/this-is-the-way-youll-remember-me-chapter-3)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity, Laurel, Tommy and Oliver are at Tommy's vacation home at The Hamptons. Unfortunately, it's not the kind of holiday Felicity had hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Please share on Tumblr if you liked it!](http://hoodiesandcomputers.tumblr.com/post/134235642440/this-is-the-way-youll-remember-me-chapter-4)

After heading to the doctor's office and getting checked up, Felicity has no desire to head back to the house. Although she doesn't have a concussion, her nose and cheek has swelled up and she's having a small amount of trouble moving her face. It's going to be difficult to explain how she sustained these injuries when she returns to work. Her first response will be to verbally rip Oliver to shreds, but no one is supposed to know they spent the weekend together.

They didn't spend it together  _together_ , they were – never mind.

And so, after having Laurel practically carry her to the car and ask her if she's fine every two seconds, they've finally arrived to the very house Felicity hoped to avoid. As much as Felicity wanted to have a simple vacation, this is proving to be far worse than she had expected. If Oliver wasn't the kind of guy he was, then she wouldn't have had to deal with him this weekend, and certainly wouldn't have been hit in the face.

Fate has a funny way of rewarding her for putting up with Oliver.

"All right, don't even move for a second," Laurel commands as she puts the car in Park. "I don't want you sustaining another injury by walking into the house."

"Laurel, I don't have a concussion and I'm perfectly fine. I'm perfectly angry with Oliver, but I don't see that going away any time soon. So."

"And I don't expect it to." Smirking, Laurel gets out of the car and rushes over to Felicity's side. "But I feel like I'm partially responsible for getting your injured when I'm the one who wanted you to come."

Unimpressed by Laurel's guilt, Felicity sighs. "It's not your fault. This is the first weekend I haven't been working. Isn't that a great thing?" Upon seeing Laurel smile just a fraction, Felicity gets out of the car and links her arm around Laurel's. "I just hope Oliver knows what's coming to him."

"I might say a quick prayer for him, because I don't doubt that you'll tear him apart.

When Felicity's dizziness subsided a few minutes after the accident, Oliver and Tommy stayed behind while Laurel took her to the doctor's. She would be lying if she said she didn't think about getting revenge the entire time at the doctor's office, and on the ride back she finalized her plans. Oliver will never know what happened to him.

They head inside as Laurel places a comforting hand behind Felicity's back – to which Felicity decides to say nothing about Laurel's overprotectiveness – and they go straight to the family room. "Sit," Laurel orders. Arguing with Laurel will be pointless, she waits for Laurel to bring an ice pack.

The house is strangely silent, but she suddenly hears loud and boisterous laughter coming from the patio. Her patience is wearing thin, and while she's trying to put on a brave face she doesn't want to deal with Oliver, semi boss or not. Regardless of the fact that Oliver's twenty-eight, he still acts like a child and Felicity doesn't have time for his shenanigans.

Yet when she hears another round of laughter coming from the patio, she can't resist her lips from tugging upward. It's infectious. All she wanted was a weekend of no worries and dealing with zero documents, and there's a part of Felicity that would be willing to let it go.

But there's another part of Felicity stubborn to the core and  _unwilling_  to let Oliver Queen win.

"Here you go." Laurel enters the room and hands Felicity an ice pack. The doctor advised her to ice her bruised face as much as she could, and gave her medicine to lessen the swelling. Unfortunately, there's nothing else she can do, and she'll have to go to work looking like she jumped off a roof that ended with disastrous results.

"Don't stop icing it until you go to sleep. On second thought, tape it on your face."

"And freeze my face off? I'd rather let my computers be hacked by the Chinese government." Or . . . not.

Laurel chuckles at Felicity's remarks and looks at her fondly. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Probably get into a lot of trouble. But at least I'm here to be your partner in crime."

Nodding solemnly, Laurel's about to say something else when Tommy and Oliver enter the living room, carrying boxes of pizza and drinks. "Felicity!" Tommy nearly drops the pizza boxes as he rushes towards her. "Are you all right?"

His concerned face is mere inches away, and she almost falls out of the sofa from the disconcerting sight. "Whoa there – you're  _way_  too close."

"Oh." Taking a step back he readjusts himself and calmly asks again, "Are you all right?"

Felicity smiles, his concern for her well being making her love him even more. "Yeah. At least I don't have a concussion, which would be horrible considering I spend the entire day looking at a computer screen." Realizing she made it seem as if that's all she does, Felicity feels the urge to correct herself.

"That's not all I do. I do a lot. Obviously I help the company," she throws in as she sneaks a glance at an uninterested Oliver, "but I totally do other things. Sometimes I –"

Abruptly, she hears someone clearing his or her throat loudly, which helps her stop the word vomit. Felicity can't prevent herself from reddening. "Thank you to whoever did that."

"You're welcome," she hears Oliver respond. She looks up to see Oliver carefully eyeing her and judging Felicity for her nonexistent social life.  _Well_. She would rather have no social life than the one Oliver currently has.

There's a tense beat after his remark, but it's broken when Tommy clasps his hands together. "Anyone ready for pizza?"

Eager to dispel the tension, Laurel hurriedly grabs plastic plates and spoons sitting on top of the pizza boxes, and hands a plate to Felicity. "We're starving." It's taking every bit of strength not to bite back at Oliver, but Felicity needs to pick her battles and food triumphs over squabbles any day.

At least for a few minutes.

As Felicity swallows her annoyance away, Laurel lays out the boxes on the table in front of her and turns on some music, while Tommy starts to pour soda in the cups. There's one box of vegetables and meat – wanting to get a head start on the pizza, Felicity dives straight in for the veggie pizza only to find Oliver heading for the same thing.

She freezes as her first reaction is to yell "Mine" but it dawns on her that Oliver's letting her take the food first  _and_  he's talking to her.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about today," he apologizes lowly. He's towering above her, his large and impressive frame once again barring her line of sight. His eyes, however, are conveying something a little different – he's  _nervous_.

Perplexed by the turn of events, Felicity eagerly waits for him to continue apologizing, her pizza long forgotten. It isn't an everyday occurrence where Felicity manages to make a future CEO uneasy.

His eyes dart around the room and he shifts his feet, and her chest swells in anticipation. "I didn't realize –"

"Hey Oliver, what drink do you want?"

And just like that, the spell is broken.

Sensing an opportunity to leave his apology half finished, Oliver promptly responds with "Coke" and quickly takes a slice of pizza. He runs to the armchair, which is seated far,  _far_  away from Felicity and ignores her glare as he digs into his pizza.

Felicity's in a state of bewilderment. Not only did he hurt her physically, he gave a half-apology and took the first opportunity to bail out of it.  _What a coward_. At this point, she doesn't have the energy to hate him, because Oliver is a man-child who's had zero responsibilities since the day he was born. Apologizing – correction:  _half_  apologizing – to her probably gave him a heart attack. Felicity's not going to let him off easy, but she should stop expecting him to turn a new leaf.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity focuses on her dinner and tries to keep a calm façade. Swopping down to Oliver's level will only make things worse and she can't let that happen. She's better than that.

After deciding to let bygones be bygones, Felicity starts munching on her food (with great difficulty, may she add) and joins in on the conversation.

"What else did the doctor say?" Tommy sits on an armchair next to Oliver and digs into his pizza, eyeing Felicity carefully.

Her mouth is full so Laurel chimes in. "She has to ice it and the doctor gave her medicine. There's not much else she can do."

"I hope you feel better soon. But if things get serious I . . . know a plastic surgeon, and she absolutely wouldn't mind having a walk-in. Oh, and Oliver can pay for the appointment!"

Felicity almost chokes on her pizza but manages to swallow it down before breaking into a fit of laughter. Laurel appears aghast, but Felicity finds Tommy's comment hysterical. Tommy has officially landed himself at the top of Felicity's Favorite People list, and she doubts there will be anything to take him out of it.

She peeks at Oliver and  _surprise_ , he's got a scowl on his face.

The conversation simmers down as they're extremely hungry after a workout and medical scare. Shockingly, it's the first time this whole weekend they've all been together for an extended period of time, and Felicity's not feeling particularly moody. Well, aside from Oliver giving her a half-assed apology.

Looking at her phone, Felicity sees that it's past eight and would usually leave whatever social situation she's in to finish her work. There's a part of her that wants to – it's home to her. She knows how to do it and it provides her a sense of normalcy. Then again, Felicity's been working extremely hard in order to get her promotion, and a quiet evening with a swollen face is change of pace for her. It's certainly not a welcome change, but something different.

"So," Laurel begins, "you have a sister, Oliver?" Felicity glances up from above her glasses and watches Oliver continue to text while ignoring Laurel. A flare of anger erupts, because hitting and not apologizing to Felicity is one thing, but pointedly ignoring Laurel is another.

It takes Oliver another five agonizing and rude seconds before he responds, "Yes. Her name's Thea, and she's the one who won't stop texting me at the moment." Oliver smiles tightly, irritated by his sister's antics.

Glancing over at Felicity, Laurel says, "I have a younger sister too. Her name's Sara and she's in college . . . At least that's what she tells our parents." Felicity grins at the mention of Sara. Even though Felicity's an only child, Sara is practically her younger sister and she cares deeply for her.

"Thea's the best," Tommy throws in. "I'm obviously her favorite."

"Yesterday she told me you smelled funny, and suggested she buy you a new cologne." While Tommy is shocked by the reveal and Oliver makes fun of him, Felicity looks over at Laurel and sees her face reddening. Laurel had bought him the cologne, which she created herself from a cute shop near their apartment. It smelled divine to Felicity, but apparently Thea Queen's rich taste can't handle it.

"Anyway, she's being childish right now. She's texting me from a bathroom because she's bored at a dinner."

"Where is she?"

Oliver shoves his phone inside his pocket. "With mom and Walter at the Plaza. I don't understand why she's in love with bathrooms."

Laurel shrugs. "It's a phase all girls go through. She'll get over it."

"It's definitely not a phase for guys."

"Right. As if guys like you haven't had phases that are embarrassing."

"For the record we've only had one awkward phase," Tommy says seriously.

"And what's that?"

"A . . . rap one."

Both Laurel and Felicity snort;  _of course_  they would go through it. It's impossible for them not to. She can only imagine what kind of clothes they went through.

"Hey, I wasn't part of that," Oliver protests.

"Yes you were." Tommy stares him down, trying to get Oliver to confess.

"No. I've had absolutely no phases. I've been Oliver since the moment I was born." He finishes his sentence by tapping his fingers against the armrest to solidify his point.

Shaking her head in disagreement Laurel says, "Not all phases are obvious. Sometimes you don't realize you've had one until things have changed."

"Yeah, it's kind of similar to how Oliver thinks he hasn't moved on from being a privileged prep."

 _Oh god_. Felicity is only aware of how everyone's eyes slowly go wide in dismay, and when her skin prickles and itches. Her body freezes and her throat dries up in humiliation. Why can't she think before she speaks?

"I didn't –"

Just then Tommy snorts so loud he starts to choke from the force of it. He regains composure less than a second later and doubles over in laughter. Unable to control it anymore, he falls on the floor as he cries from the hilarity of what Felicity said.

Over to the side Laurel can't stop herself from grinning also, but Felicity's reluctant to move a muscle. Even though she believes Oliver is a pompous, ill-mannered  _boy_ , she insulted her almost boss  _again_. She may be right in her assessment, but Felicity needs to learn how to control these outbursts.

But when Felicity gathers the courage to glimpse at Oliver, he's carefully watching her and everyone else around him unable to hold themselves together. Even Laurel's openly giggling now, while Tommy takes a five second break before breaking into another fit.

"I've sort of moved past that phase," Oliver mumbles as Tommy reaches over the coffee table and grabs a tissue to wipe his tears away. He's clearly offended by Felicity's comment, but to a certain degree he knows she's right. And it's all she needs to finally breathe.

Even though Oliver Queen doesn't like to apologize or admit when he's wrong, it appears he's got a good habit of not refuting the truth when it comes to his horrid personality. Which is certainly a plus for Felicity.

* * *

After dinner, Felicity's retired back to her room, exhausted from sightseeing and the injury she's sustained. She attempts to sleep but sleep never comes. Her mind is too restless, and she's having a hard time sleeping on her side because her face is sore. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning, she finds herself wanting to work despite the late hour.

When she goes to use her laptop, the WiFi signal is absent. With a groan, Felicity wraps a plush throw around her shoulders and heads downstairs into the office, hoping the Internet isn't permanently broken.

Except she finds herself standing alone in a room with Oliver. Again.

"Oh. Hi." Oliver stands still in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. He's caught off guard by Felicity's presence, but at least he has clothes on. "I was going to fix the Internet."

"Yourself?" She's incredulous to say the least.

He's unfazed. "I learned a few things when I was in Russia. A computer was one of them."

She doesn't trust him enough to do it correctly. He can learn from Bill Gates himself and she still wouldn't believe him. "It's fine, I can do it myself. It'll probably get done quicker if I do it, but I'll definitely have to run a diagnostics test."

Felicity cringes on the inside once she realizes it sounded a little mean. "I'm . . . all right with staying a little busy," she says hastily. "It'll be fixed in about ten minutes or so."

For some reason Oliver refuses to let her take the reigns when she's certainly more qualified then he'll ever be. His brows furrow. "I just – all I need to do is unplug and re-plug the cord." Oliver points to the Internet box and raises an eyebrow. "It's really not that difficult."

"I'm not saying it's difficult. I'm saying I have experience in this and I'll guarantee it'll be done thoroughly." Oliver's eyes narrow by her comment but she thinks nothing of it.

"I know it'll be done thoroughly and I don't expect anything less." Oliver turns around and bends to the floor. "But there's no reason to run a diagnostics when all you need to do is unplug the cord." He dramatically pulls the plug and watches her from below, his haughty expression refusing to dissipate.

Crossing her arms and sizing Oliver up, Felicity softly taps her foot in anticipation and annoyance. Tilting her head to the side, she glares at him because she knows he's wrong, and if he could be a little less egotistical that would be fantastic. A male's pride is particularly fragile, especially in the presence of an accomplished woman; Oliver is no different.

It doesn't take long for Felicity's eyes to zero in on Oliver's backside, because it's rather . . . defined. It's hard not to stare when it's shoved in her face. She wouldn't necessarily say she finds butts attractive, but this one isn't so –

She needs to stop.  _Now_.

Pushing those thoughts away, Oliver finally puts the cord back in and watches the lights turn on. Felicity peers over his large frame and sees all the lights are flashing green, but her experience has taught her otherwise. Discreetly, she takes out her phone and checks the WiFi signal, and much to her dismay it's working.

Felicity doesn't like to be wrong –  _ever_  – but to have this happen in front of Oliver isn't what she wanted. His overly inflated ego will expand even more, and to be a culprit in Oliver's cycle of egomania only makes her an accomplice – an unwilling one at that.

"Would you look at that, the Internet is working." Oliver glances over his shoulder and smiles smugly before returning back to the other modems to see if they're fine.

She bites her tongue from saying something because she knows it's futile and unnecessary. Yes, Oliver may have gotten all the lights to work and  _yes_ , it appears the Internet is working, but it could very well have another meltdown while they're here. Felicity will simply have to conduct her tests when he's not in the room.

Just before she leaves, Felicity scans all the other monitors and cords to see if they're placed correctly. Surprisingly they're all connected in the right areas, but they're scattered about and hazardously wrapped together. "Who set up the Internet here? The cords are a mess."

Oliver sighs deeply as he stands up, and his eyes bore onto Felicity's. "I did it."

Her shoulders sag in defeat; there really is no end to her misery, is there? "I should've known better than to ask."

"You're right. I didn't have time to do it correctly when I came here last year." Her interest piques, since as far as the world knows Oliver didn't come back to the States at all during his five-year stint. "But I guess it's a good thing you're here because  _you_  can fix it all you want," he says as gestures at the pile of monitors.

He's mocking her, she's sure of it. "No thanks. I have other pressing concerns like helping you run your company." Glancing at the floor, she mutters angrily, "And making sure my face doesn't swell up to the size of a mountain"

Oliver flinches by her words and guiltily looks to the ground. "Yeah . . . I'm really sorry about that." His jaw ticks but his eyes are soft, and his voice drops an octave. Much to her chagrin it soothes her – it's low a tenor, smooth and enticing.

Before her mind can go elsewhere, she quickly chastises herself for getting momentarily hypnotized.  _Stay focused, Smoak_.

"It was a complete accident. I got arrogant and thought I could hit the ball before you came into view, and I couldn't stop myself from hitting you. I'm  _really_  sorry."

Maybe it's a combination of his cute butt, calming voice or the late hour, but suddenly Felicity feels tired of this charade.  _Of course_  it's not his fault he couldn't stop himself from hitting her, because it was already too late. Of course this weekend hasn't been horrible because of Oliver, and of course he's not the bad guy here. If anything he's remained civil – as civil as he can be – to Felicity from the very moment he came her.

It's true that his first impression wasn't perfect, and he more or less said Felicity wasn't attractive because she's a smart nerd. But Felicity's been her own worst enemy this weekend and has continuously dampened her own spirits by letting his presence taint her vacation. If she just ignored him she wouldn't be feeling so moody. And while Oliver is kind of her boss, he's been astonishingly good about Felicity's outburst and hasn't threatened to fire her . . .  _yet_.

She doesn't like him – far from it – but she's willing to admit Oliver isn't Voldemort dressed in disguise. He could still work on his social graces, though.

"If there's anything I can do . . ."

 _Actually_ , maybe he can.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

He looks surprised that Felicity's actually taking up his offer. "OK?" he asks apprehensively.

"Relax, I'm not going to blackmail you." He swallows thickly, and Felicity can't restrain herself from rolling her eyes. "I would like it if you could be nice to Laurel."

The spell is broken, because at the mention of Laurel he goes back to Rude and Obnoxious Oliver Queen, not Apologetic and Possibly Decent Human Being Oliver Queen. "Am I not nice already?"

 _Obviously not_. "I know her. You're Tommy's best friend, and she wants you to like her because your approval means a lot to Tommy. She hasn't said a word to me, but Laurel's been doing her best to get to know you. A 'thank you' and a few flowery words would be appreciated."

"I suppose . . ."

"Listen, I understand you're protective of him. I'm protective of Laurel, but maybe you should take a step back and let their relationship run its course."

At this moment Felicity's forgotten all about Oliver being her semi-boss, because right now they're best friends of the people they care the most. His animosity towards Laurel is hurting her friend, and Laurel's too kind to broach her concerns with Felicity. The least she can do is smooth things over behind the curtain.

Oliver acquiesces. "All right. I'll let her know she's . . ." He trails off and tries to find the right word. "Cool."

"Right. Good."

Astonished they've managed to have a somewhat decent conversation, Felicity rocks on her heels and chews the inside of her cheek. "Well, uh, night then."

To his credit Oliver smiles normally. "Good night."

As she goes up to her room, she forgets all about her work, and Felicity finally sleeps with no care in the world.

* * *

Since Felicity was technically supposed to go back to Star City on Friday via a company-approved plane ticket, she has to take a bus back to Metropolis then grab a cab to the airport. Tommy had insisted she use his private jet to Star City, but she overheard that Oliver would be taking the same jet; she  _definitely_  doesn't want to be there. Besides, Felicity's certain her actual bosses won't appreciate spending money for a ticket she didn't use.

All of her belongings are packed, but Felicity spends a couple of minutes looking out the window and soaking in some fresh air. Although the vacation certainly wasn't perfect, she managed to refrain from working and worrying about projects. It's a change of pace for her.

As for her injury, the swelling hasn't ballooned into a purple monster, but she's still sore on the bridge of her nose and there's a bump on top of her cheekbone. She went to sleep with an icepack glued to her face – it's a miracle her face didn't get frostbitten. Nonetheless, Felicity can cover her injury with makeup although she'll have to wear contacts for a while.

She hears some commotion downstairs and readies herself after surveying the room for any items she hasn't packed. As she descends down the stairs, she's greeted by Tommy and Laurel chatting animatedly. "Hey guys."

Tommy's face lights up and he immediately grabs her luggage. "Are you sure you don't want to spend a few more hours and take my jet? It would save you the hassle."

"Thank you but I'll have to pass." She glances at Laurel before saying, "I'll remember this offer when Laurel and I are trying to go to the Bahamas on a  _proper_  vacation."

"I like how you think!" Tommy laughs heartedly and wags his finger at her. "I'll go ahead and put this in the car."

After watching Tommy exit the house with her carryon, Felicity steps into the foyer and notices Laurel's holding a lunch bag. "What's in there?"

"It's for you. I packed some snacks for the trip. I hope you're fine with tangerines and Doritos." Scrunching her nose, Laurel adds, "There's an abundant amount of Doritos in this house."

Felicity smiles knowingly; there are always going to be a plentiful amount of junk food as far as boys are concerned. "Thanks. Now I won't have to spend 15 dollars for a packet of cookies at the airport."

"See? This is how you know how much I care about you," jokes Laurel. She glances at her phone to check the time. "We should go. We don't want to miss your bus."

"Absolutely." Felicity's already printed out her bus and plane ticket (even though she has an electronic copy for both), and they're safely tucked inside her purse. As she steps closer to the door a wave of nostalgia hits her – this is the first time in a long time she's had a break and she's certainly sad to see it go. But for a brief moment Felicity feels this vacation house will be making an appearance in the future. When, she doesn't know, but soon.

Once Felicity steps outside, she notices a black SUV parked next to Tommy's sports car. "Where did this car come from?" She doesn't recall seeing the SUV at all during the weekend.

Leaning against the railing on the porch, Laurel looks a little embarrassed and says, "This car stays in the garage the whole year . . . in case someone needs it."

Translation: Tommy's so rich he can have a car lying around at a vacation home whenever he wants.

"Oh." Translation: what a waste of money.

Laurel clears her throat and walks toward the car as Felicity follows suit, but stops as she sees Tommy and Oliver coming out of the garage. Felicity steps nearer and joins in on the conversation. Tommy says a couple of words to Laurel then focuses his attention on Felicity.

"Before I forget, I put a couple packets of peanuts for you in your suitcase," Tommy says. "In case you –"

" _No_!"

Tommy steps back because he can't handle both Laurel and Felicity's screeching, whereas Oliver is puzzled and freaked out. Felicity takes a breather and counts backwards from three.

"She's 1000 percent allergic to peanuts. She'll  _die_  if she comes near it," Laurel explains.

Felicity nods in agreement. "Totally. So dead even my corpse won't be able to talk."

Eyes slowly widening in horror, Tommy exclaims, "Oh God, I didn't mean to murder you!" He immediately runs to the trunk of the car and loudly unzips the carryon.  _Crisis_   _averted_. Felicity says a quick  _Thank You_  to the man upstairs before returning her attention to the present.

With Tommy disposing hazardous materials, there's now an awkward silence between her, Laurel, and Oliver. She can't help but glance at Oliver in his perfect plaid shirt glory, but immediately banishes that thought from her mind. It's still quiet between them – Felicity's mouth is in the process of opening and making the situation even worse when Oliver luckily breaks the silence.

"So . . . Laurel, thank you for inviting me. I appreciate it." He nods tersely and ostentatiously glances at Felicity, which makes her uneasy _._ Except _. . . Is he trying to uphold his end of the bargain from last night?_

Laurel visibly brightens. "It's the least I can do. I hope you had fun."

"Yeah, definitely." Oliver continues to look at Felicity as if he's waiting for a sign of encouragement.  _So_   _he really is trying to fulfill the bargain_. Felicity's not sure if she should give him thumbs up or a pat on the back, but she opts for a tiny nod and a discreet hand gesture so he can continue singing praises.

"I had some of Friday's leftovers. The pasta was delicious," he adds while he places a hand on his stomach. "I wish I had it everyday."

Felicity thought Oliver would be the last person on earth to make things uncomfortable, but it seems he's making a run for her money. She gets a sudden urge to laugh out loud, but manages to contain it and not ruin the moment. Still, it's the funniest thing she's seen all weekend.

"You flatter me." Laurel's smile has gotten ten times bigger, and seeing her get complimented is making Felicity happy she talked to Oliver. "But thank you."

"And if you ever need anything in Star City . . . or want some dirt on Tommy, I'll gladly hand it over."

 _Oh no, now he_ definitely _needs to shut up or he'll make things worse_.

Felicity doesn't miss the alarmed look on Laurel's face, or how Oliver's cheeks are turning pink from embarrassment, so she glares at Oliver and shakes her head to stop him. Thankfully, he understands her signal and loudly shuffles his feet to end the awkward conversation.

To Laurel's credit she's still smiling, albeit a little less than she was ten seconds ago. "Duly noted."

Oliver simply nods in acknowledgement as the pink flush on his face slowly subsidizes, but Felicity feels kind of guilty for rubbing off on him. It seems her verbal affliction has contaminated Oliver – then again, perhaps it's a good thing she's not the only one who embarrasses herself.

Sensing the conversation is headed nowhere, Felicity gently says, "We should get going or I'll be late."

"Right." Laurel starts to walk away and waves at Oliver. "We should catch up soon."

"Of course."

Laurel immediately gets inside the SUV while Tommy stands on the driver side, making sure things are fine with the car. Felicity's alone with Oliver now; she's not sure if she should thank him for being nice to Laurel, or give him a gold star for remaining civil. Her instinct is to blurt something out, but once again, Oliver saves the day and suggests, "I'll walk you to the car."

Surprised, Felicity keeps her mouth shut and walks to the SUV, complete with a footstep to boost her up. The car looms over her, and it appears getting into it will be a daunting task, particularly with her heels. Before she can register how to step in, Oliver's large hand grabs the door handle. He's maintaining a decent distance from her – his face looks serious, but she notices how the sun changes his hair color to slightly blonde, and how his eyes are now baby blue.

"Thanks for the advice. And again, I'm sorry about your face."

"That's –"

She can't get another word out as Oliver swiftly opens the door, clearly intending for the conversation to be over.  _All right . . ._ As Felicity steps around, she contemplates how to gracefully get in the car without twisting her ankle. Carefully planting her left foot on top of the footstep, Felicity manages to keep her balance. But in that split second she goes to sit on the seat, a warm and calloused hand reaches for hers, and she's not prepared for an odd tingling sensation coursing through her hand. It travels from her fingertips all the way to her toes, her womb tightens, and it circles back up until it disappears. It's an incredible feeling, but the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Her throat closes up, and before she can understand what's happening, the door is shut and she's settled into the car. She robotically buckles herself in, and uninterestedly waves goodbye to Tommy, who's standing alone on the driveway.

The moment loops nonstop in her head, hammering away and refusing to let her go home in peace. She's never felt that sensation before and –

"Ready? You're sure you have everything?"

She snaps out of her daze in just enough time for Laurel not to notice. Plastering a smile on her face, Felicity says, "Yes and yes. I'm definitely ready to go home."

 _And especially forget what just happened_.

* * *

His hand burns a good two minutes after she's left. He shakes it to get rid of the feeling, but it's escaped and goes to his chest, where it settles in and blossoms into something else. He doesn't know what's going on, but there's a part of him that welcomes it.

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the incredibly late chapter. I've had very little inspiration, things got hectic, and that's why I haven't updated in seven months. This chapter wasn't edited, so if you see any mistakes I'm sorry!
> 
> I hope you guys caught the P&P 2005 reference... It's one of my favorite scenes in the film. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity learns a dirty secret about Oliver, and a familiar face comes to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Better late than never, right? :D I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Felicity is fortunate enough to make a six-figure salary and afford expensive items, yet no amount of high-end makeup can cover the bump on her cheek and nose. The swelling in surrounding areas have lessened, but the side of her nose is tender as well as the top of her cheekbone. Her injuries have turned into a deep purple color, and despite caking on several layers of concealer it’s impossible to cover up.

She gets to work a little early so she can dodge the stares, but McKenna is already here nursing a cup of coffee in the breakroom. Grunting a “Hello,” Felicity heads straight to the coffee and immediately pours it in her favorite mug.

“Hello to you too.” Leaning against the counter, McKenna eyes Felicity suspiciously. “You don’t look so good.”

“Tell me about it.” After putting the right amount of sugar, Felicity finally faces McKenna and watches her expression go from neutral to shocked.

“Oh my God! What happened?”

She’s itching to spill the gossip to McKenna. “You know how The Hamptons is only a couple of hours away from Metropolis?”

“Yeah so? Get to the point. I want to know why you look like you got run over by a truck.”

A hint of panic hits her – does she really look like that? “Laurel was there with Tommy at his beach house and invited me over.”

McKenna’s eyes go round. “Wow, look at you visiting fancy houses! How was it?”

“All right . . .” She almost blurts Oliver was at the house, but hesitates before venturing further. McKenna is a trusted coworker, except she’s a mutual acquaintance of Oliver’s. Felicity wonders if gossiping to McKenna is a good idea, but McKenna’s continuously proven to be loyal, and most of all, a friend.

Choosing to let McKenna in on the secret, Felicity checks to see if anyone else has come inside and whispers, “Except Oliver Queen was there too.”

“ _No_.”

“Yes.”

Gasping, McKenna places a hand over her chest. “Why? When? _How?”_

Sighing deeply, Felicity takes a sip before explaining further. “Laurel and Tommy invited Oliver to hang out so she could get to know him better.  Let’s just say it wasn’t the best vacation in the world.”

“I don’t doubt it considering you look like . . .” McKenna searches for the right word before waving her hand in Felicity’s direction. “That. Besides, wasn’t it kind of weird having QC’s future CEO is hanging out with you?”

“Right?” Fueled by remembered outrage, Felicity walks out of the kitchen with McKenna in tow. “Laurel and I had a bit of a _disagreement_ about it. If I had said the wrong thing Oliver could’ve had me fired in a second if he wanted to.”

McKenna frowns as she tries to keep up with Felicity. “But you work overtime almost every day, _and_ you’re one of the best consultants QC has to offer. His trust fund might get him everything he wants, but he’s going to need a better reason to fire you.”  

“My thoughts exactly. And I’m trying to get that promotion I’ve been working so hard for.” They finally reach Felicity’s office and she settles in her chair, contemplating for a moment. “Actually, I said a few things that definitely could’ve made me fired, but thankfully it seems like he didn’t take it the wrong way. I think.”

Raising her mug, McKenna toasts, “Here’s to good luck and Oliver being too dense and pretty to realize you’re making fun of him.”

“Hear, hear.” Felicity’s certain he knew she insulted him, especially the comment about being a privileged prep, but surprisingly he took it in stride. “I just hope I don’t have another run in with him. I’m happy for Laurel and Tommy, but that doesn’t mean I have to be best friends with Oliver too.”

“Yeah totally. I would feel weird if I hung out with Oliver like I did before.” McKenna shrugs. “Being adult means being serious.”

“I highly doubt Oliver knows what being an adult means.”

Laughing, McKenna places a hand on her hip and tilts her head. “Aw c’mon, don’t be too harsh. He’s definitely changed. If you think he’s immature now, you should’ve seen him when he was a teenager.”

“I have. On TV, magazines, online . . .” Felicity can’t restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “QC’s board members don’t think Oliver’s getting any more mature, and neither do I.

“Oh my God, you really have it against him, don’t you?”

Felicity sips her coffee through her innocent smile and raises her eyebrows in suggestion. McKenna has _no_ idea.

* * *

It’s been a few weeks since vacation – if one would call it that – and the weather significantly warms up as May comes around. Work has been relentless, and it’s prevented Felicity from hanging out with Laurel or any other friends, not to mention her love life is nonexistent. Seeing Laurel go on dates with Tommy makes her feel a little lonely, but she has no one to blame but herself. All she ever wanted was to be successful, but little did she know what a chunk it would take out of her personal life to achieve that goal. Her boss continues to reward her efforts by dumping more projects on top of her already full load, but Felicity swallows her annoyance. She firmly believes this means her boss thinks she can handle it, and she’ll do anything to prove him right to get the promotion she deserves.

As of now, her team is about to have an important meeting with the CEO of Palmer Tech. The entire office is buzzing in excitement and McKenna’s taken out her invisible whip to keep everyone in line. Neither Felicity nor her boss are aware of what Ray Palmer wants, but it’ll surely be interesting. She heard through the grapevine Walter Steele is thinking about approving whatever Ray has planned, so the meeting is probably an informational one.

She’s paid attention to Palmer Tech over the years; they tried to recruit her when she graduated from MIT, but they were fairly new to the business world, which made Felicity a little uneasy and worried what might happen if Palmer Tech failed. When a blue-chip company came knocking on her door, Felicity couldn’t resist and took the job at QC. Palmer Tech has certainly made an impression with their affordable green technology and improvements in the health industry, though, as Ray Palmer has made a conscious effort to combine philanthropy with business. Felicity admires his tenacity and his ventures have proven to be profitable.

The meeting is supposed to happen at half past ten, and although everyone is already seated and anxiously waiting, Ray Palmer is nowhere to be seen. McKenna ordered decadent sandwiches from an expensive restaurant but some of them have gone cold, as no one has made a move to touch them. Her boss, Nathan, is flipping his pen back and forth, and the clock ticks loudly as each second passes by.

Suddenly, they hear voices coming through the hallway – Felicity recognizes McKenna's and she assumes the deeper, manly voice is Mr. Palmer’s. Everyone in the conference room looks at each other with excitement, and Felicity would be lying if she didn’t feel a little nervous as well. It’s not an everyday occurrence she gets to be in the presence of CEOs.

The door opens and the entire room is greeted with a booming “Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late!”

Felicity’s taken aback by Mr. Palmer’s ebullient presence. He’s ungodly tall and is too cheerful for a multi-millionaire, and the moment he sees everyone he clasps his hands while grinning. _Huh_.

“Welcome to Queen Consolidated, Mr. Palmer.” Nathan shakes his hand. “Please, have a seat.”

Ray happily sits down at the front of the table. “I got held up at the office – well, more like I lost track of time. Sometimes I get a little . . .” He points to his head and makes a gesture indicating he can get spacy on occasion. Felicity glances over at her coworker who’s just as perturbed as she is. Ray’s possibly the most eccentric person she’s ever met.

Nathan appears to be thrown off by Ray but he soldiers on. He introduces everyone in the room, and when he finishes he asks, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“As I’m sure you all know, I’ve made it my personal mission to create a better tomorrow, whether it’s through cleaner technology or helping the poor get the care they deserve. Although Palmer Tech isn’t publically traded, we’ve managed to expand in areas I never thought we could get into with meager funds.” He pauses and shrugs. “I guess people shouldn’t underestimate me.”

Everyone cracks a tiny smile at his comment – it’s common knowledge that Ray has made a name for himself for charging forward through any project, regardless if his funding is a hundred dollars or ten million. “The thing is, Palmer Tech is trying to branch out into new territory, but we need help. My benefactor Mr. Hunter – Rip Hunter, I owe him everything, he really is an amazing guy – has funneled a lot of money into Palmer Tech, but I think it would be beneficial to work with other companies. To show solidarity. And because Queen Consolidated has things I don’t have.”

“What exactly does QC have that you don’t?” Nathan asks.

Ray smirks. “The kind of nano technology that’s being secretly developed at QC.”

A hush falls over the entire conference room, because as far as everyone is concerned it doesn’t exist, at least not publicly.

“That’s . . . part of Applied Sciences,” Felicity blurts out. Nathan shoots a wary look at her but she can’t stop herself. “Why would you need us?”

Banging his hand on the table, which causes everyone to flinch, Ray eagerly says, “I need your to help create technology that’s small enough to be injected inside a human, but smart enough to eat away tumors – big or small, malignant or benign – _anywhere_ in the body.”

 _Oh my._ This is going to be a long meeting.

* * *

As Felicity closes her notebook and folder away, she realizes all the sandwiches are gone and groans at the new development. Since the meeting, which was filled with plenty of geek talk and impossibilities, lasted two long and arduous hours, everyone scrambled to go outside for lunch or quickly catch up on work. What Ray’s asking is going to be extremely hard to develop, and QC’s IT department will have to work with several other departments – including people at Palmer Tech – to get the ball rolling. This is a tall order.

Just as Felicity gathers enough strength to get up, Ray comes inside the conference room and makes a beeline for her. From this vantage point, he’s even taller than he was two hours ago. He’s grinning widely as he comes closer, and Felicity’s eyes focus on his perfectly tailored suit, which accentuates his impressive frame.

“It’s been awhile, Ms. Smoak.”

“You remember me?” It’s been a little over three years since she was contacted from Palmer Tech, so she’s slightly surprised that he recalls her name. Even though she politely declined their offer, Felicity hopes he doesn’t hold a grudge against her.

“Of course! You’re one of the brightest people to come out of MIT. In fact, you’re the brightest one who ever got away. Why wouldn’t I remember?”

Her skin heats up in pride, and also because she’s _still_ getting used to people complimenting her, even if it’s coming from the CEO of Palmer Tech. “Wow, thank you.”

Ray smiles again and Felicity can’t stop herself from doing so – it’s infectious. “Well, I wanted to drop by and say hi, and to say I’m looking forward to working with you.” He sticks out his hand and Felicity goes to firmly shake it.

“As do I.” Perhaps not as enthusiastically as he seems to be, but he doesn’t need to know that.  

* * *

It’s uncommon for Felicity to get home before eight, but today is different – she manages to come home by six, which gives her time to unwind with a glass of wine before hitting the sheets. Today wasn’t particularly tiring, but the office couldn’t stop talking about Palmer’s proposal. She and her team haven’t even touched on the basics, which will no doubt take a long time to get through.

Sighing loudly, Felicity drops her bag and collapses on the couch, soaking in a few precious seconds of silence. Just then, Laurel comes barging into the living room and breaks her moment of peace.

“Wow, you’re here early.”

“Trust me, I’m shocked too.” Felicity closes her eyes. “Ray Palmer came into our office so everyone was too wound up to work today.”

“Wait, _the_ Ray Palmer? CEO of Palmer Tech?” Curious by office gossip, Laurel sits down next to Felicity to hear more. “What was he doing at QC?”

Taking off her shoes, Felicity begins to rub her aching heels as she explains Ray’s proposal. “He basically wants to create a machine small enough to be inserted into someone’s body that can eat away tumors. “ She sighs. “I know it’s going to be an amazing piece of technology, but it seems a little improbable to me, and I’m usually all for impossible challenges.”

Nodding seriously, Laurel says, “Yeah. Who can forget your wannabe hacktivist phase in college?”

Felicity glares at Laurel, because it’s understood that _no one_ talks about her hacktivist phase, especially in her presence. “ _Anyway_ , he said he’s aiming for a five-year timeframe, which is possible. But given the fact that we’re going to work with Palmer Tech and this project is basically starting from scratch, it looks like it’ll take more than that.”

Laurel leans back on the couch in awe. “He must be really confident in himself if he thinks QC and Palmer Tech can pull it off in a short amount of time.”

“Tell me about it. Enough about work, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out with Tommy?”

“ _OK_ , I have other things to do besides hanging out with Tommy.” When Felicity raises  eyebrow, Laurel sighs. “Fine. I just thought . . . it would be nice for us to hang out tonight. Tommy’s already taken up so much of my time. I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

“If anything, I’ve neglected you with all the overtime I’ve worked lately.” While it’s true Laurel’s been spending most of her time with Tommy, Felicity can’t blame her for doing so. Work’s gotten unbearable, which is causing Felicity to limit the amount of time she spends with Laurel. But if it’s what she has to do in order to get her promotion, she’ll have to trudge through mountains of work for a few more months.

Placing a hand on Laurel’s thigh, Felicity looks at her and smiles tiredly. “Besides, I’m the one who can’t say no to a project and wants that promotion _so_ bad. I promise we’ll hang out –”

A loud knock interrupts Felicity midsentence and makes them both flinch. Their apartment building has a front desk, so for someone to knock without the doorman calling beforehand is odd. Laurel cautiously stands up and goes to the door, peeking through the eyehole before groaning loudly.

The door swings wide open and reveals none other than Sara Lance, Laurel’s baby sister. “Surprise!” Dropping her bags in the hallway, she leaps into Laurel’s arms and hugs her tightly. “I missed you so much!”

Laurel hugs Sara back, but when she disentangles herself from Sara, she looks at her in confusion and asks, “What are you doing here?”

Pointedly ignoring Laurel’s question, Sara’s eyes widen when she spots Felicity. “Felicity!” She runs straight to Felicity and jumps on top of her, trapping her in a hug. “I missed you too!”

Felicity catches Laurel’s eye and silently screams for help, but Laurel only shrugs back. Sara has a thing for abruptly coming into their lives with no warning. Usually, she would visit if she had issues at college, didn’t want to spend time with her parents, or worse, needed a place to crash after a long night of partying. Although Felicity doesn’t mind Sara popping in from time to time, her antics tended to put Laurel in a foul mood and placed Felicity in an awkward position.  Laurel always wanted Felicity to back her up and police Sara, whereas Sara relied on Felicity to constantly mediate any arguments between the two. She loves them both, but their disagreements put a damper on everything.

“Sara, I’m so glad you’re here.” She removes herself from Sara’s embrace and takes in her appearance. Sara’s hair has gotten a little longer and brighter, but the cheerful smile permanently glued to her face is the same. Felicity would be lying if she said she hadn’t missed her, too.

“Ugh, tell me about it. I need a bottle of NyQuil, Netflix and sixteen hours of sleep, stat.” Sara settles on the couch and looks at Laurel. “Why don’t you sit over here?”

Folding her arms in front of her chest, Laurel continues to cross-examine Sara. “Don’t you have finals coming up since it’s the beginning of May?”

“Oh, I’m finished!”

Felicity and Laurel glance at each other, as they don’t necessarily believe her. Noticing the exchange, Sara scoffs. “My professors decided to hand out exams a week early, and since I’m taking two online classes, I don’t have to think about them until next week. Don’t worry, I’m not skipping out on anything.”

Felicity knows it's almost unheard of for a college to let students take final exams for a class online unless it's an essay.  Either Sara is lying or her professors aren’t aware of people copying and pasting questions into Google. Rather than raise any more questions that could potentially start an argument between Laurel and Sara, Felicity clasps her hands together and proposes, “Why don’t we all go out to eat? I heard about a new Mexican restaurant that opened up.”

Sara squeals at the idea while Laurel appears ready to pull her hair out. _Here’s to hoping they don’t pull out each other’s_ , Felicity thinks.

* * *

The restaurant is slightly full for a Wednesday night, but their hostess found a nice spot tucked away from the rush. Sara’s been chatting nonstop about college, boys and working as a bartender, the last of which causes Laurel to express some surprise. There seems to be no shortage of drama in her life, but Felicity doesn’t mind hearing about it. Sara’s never afraid of taking the plunge, a trait Felicity admires.

Lips pursed, Sara flips through the menu. “Hmm . . . I think I’m going to get appetizers first. Did you guys want anything in particular?”

Laurel raises an inquisitive eyebrow at Sara. “Am I going to have to pay for your dinner?”

“Well no, since _I’m_ the one with a job and you’re still unemployed.” Ignoring Laurel’s grimace, Sara adds, “I want to treat everyone tonight! Bartending is by no means a glamorous job, but the tips are _insane_. So. Dinner’s on me.”

“Thanks, Sara.” Sara seems unperturbed by Laurel’s behavior, but Felicity knows Laurel is going to vent to her once they get back to the apartment, which she’s not necessarily looking forward to.

Out of the corner of her eye Felicity spots their waiter coming up to them. As he approaches their table, Felicity feasts her eyes on his appearance – he’s undeniably hot with a lean body and a jaw that could slice the universe. His presence is probably setting hearts on fire all over this restaurant.

“Hey ladies, how are you doing this evening?” His voice is deep, husky, and he stands tall and confident. Placing chips and salsa in the middle of the table, he takes out a notebook and pen to write down their orders. “My name’s Roy and I’ll be your waiter tonight. What can I get you to drink?”

Sara has the advantage of her back facing Roy, so she takes the opportunity to ostentatiously wiggle her eyebrows and mouths _He’s so hot!_

Felicity does her best to keep a straight face although Sara’s making it hard to do so. “I’ll have a glass of pinot noir.” She smiles at Roy and he returns the gesture in kind, making her heart warm slightly.

He focuses his attention to Laurel, waiting for her order. “I’ll have a margarita,” she says, not bothering to spare Roy another glance. Typically in the presence of delicious men, Felicity and Laurel would giggle and gossip about them the entire night. It appears Laurel’s disinterest in Roy has her thinking Tommy has her undivided attention, without or without him actually being here. _Huh_. Laurel’s definitely come a long way since her first encounter with Tommy.

Roy jots down their drink order and finally faces Sara. “What about you, miss?”

She ponders for a moment. “I think I’ll stick with a Coke or Pepsi.”

“Great. I’ll be right back.”

Once he’s out of earshot, Sara leans forward as she practically bounces in her seat. “Talk about a hot tamale! Felicity, thank you for bringing us here.” She theatrically fans herself and Felicity laughs at her antics. Sara has always been fun to hang out with.

“Trust me, if I had known about him I would’ve visited sooner.”

“Sara, do mom and dad know you’re here?”

_And here comes the Laurel Inquisition._

Laurel’s ill-timed question casts a storm cloud on the cheerful atmosphere, causing Sara to slightly squirm in her seat.

“I mean . . .”

“Sara, you can’t drop by in the middle of finals week and expect me to keep my mouth shut.” Sighing, Laurel reaches for a chip and takes a bite out of it. “Look, I don’t mind when you come by, but you can’t do it unannounced and not tell mom and dad you’re back.”

Sensing things are going to get awkward fast, Felicity tries to ease the tension. “I don’t mind that you’re here.”

Sending her an annoyed glance, Laurel focuses her attention back to Sara. “So? Are you going to tell them or should I?”

Groaning, Sara also reaches for a chip and angrily takes a bite. “I decided not to tell mom and dad I’m back because they would ask a whole bunch of questions, and I _really_ needed to get away from school. And like I said, I’ve already taken most of my exams except for my online courses. I promise I’ll let them know once I’m finished.”

Before Laurel says anything else, Tommy appears in Felicity’s line of sight with Oliver in tow. He waves excitedly then tugs on Oliver’s arm, beckoning him to come over. _Oh God no, please don’t_. Desperate to keep Oliver at bay, Felicity quickly removes her gaze from them. Placing a hand over her eyes, she tilts her head toward Laurel and Sara, and tries to convey through her body language the guys should take themselves elsewhere. She doesn’t necessarily mind Tommy, but Oliver is another issue in itself. Although Felicity hasn’t interacted with Oliver since vacation, she still hasn’t forgotten about him hitting her in the face, nor has she forgotten the subsequent bruising that happened afterwards.

As Felicity tries to ignore Tommy and Oliver’s inevitable approach, Laurel suddenly spots them coming over. For a moment a look of panic washes over her face, and it hits Felicity that Laurel hasn’t told Sara or her parents that she’s been dating _the_ Tommy Merlyn. Keeping her mouth shut, Felicity sits perfectly still and tries not giving anything away to Sara.

Alas, the two approach their table, but to Tommy’s credit he keeps his distance and doesn’t go in for a kiss. “Hey Laurel, Felicity.” He’s dressed in a sharp suit jacket and jeans, while Oliver’s wearing a grey suit that’s fitted to perfection. The stubble on his jaw and neck has slightly grown from the last time Felicity saw him, but it only highlights his eyes and makes him to appear older and mature. His eyes briefly touch on Felicity’s, to which she can immediately feel her face flush out of her own accord. Hoping her unease will subside if she’s not looking at him, she turns her attention to Sara, who’s so awestruck she’s speechless.

“Hey Tommy and Oliver. What are you guys doing here?” Laurel shifts uncomfortably in her seat, whereas Sara’s quiet as she watches with rapt attention.

Tommy fidgets and swallows audibly at Laurel's reaction. “Uh, Oliver and I were grabbing a quick dinner. It’s the first time we’ve been here. Is it any good?”

“It’s our first time here, too.” Felicity says, hoping if she steps in, Laurel won't have to explain further. “By the way this is Laurel’s sister, Sara. She’s visiting us for the next week.”

“That’s great! Nice to meet you, Sara.” Sara nervously shakes hands with Tommy and grins widely.

“Nice to meet you, too.” From Sara's star-struck look, Felicity bets she’s screaming internally and won’t stop asking questions when they’re gone. “And this must be Oliver Queen?”

Oliver smiles politely. “The one and only.”

Sara giggles and bats her eyelashes at him. He smirks at her, no doubt playing the flirting game as well, and for a brief moment a flash of irritation hits Felicity. Flirting with a twenty-one year old should embarrass Oliver, but clearly he’ll do anything to garner attention. Restraining herself from ostentatiously rolling her eyes and giving Oliver another opportunity to potentially fire her, Felicity pulls her phone from her purse and checks for any texts and emails. Unfortunately, she can’t pretend to be busy because she has no emails or texts from anyone. Quietly sighing in resignation, she returns her attention back to the conversation.

“Well, Oliver and I wanted to –”

“Ladies, are you ready to order?” Roy quickly approaches their table with their drinks in hand, but after seeing Tommy and Oliver he slows his steps and his face pales at the sight of them. Upon hearing Roy, Oliver and Tommy turn to face the waiter, but their reactions are vastly different – Tommy’s smile is effectively wiped from his lips, while Oliver’s shoulder contract and his fingers twitch, curling into a fist as his eyes burn with dangerous intent.

 _Whoa_.

Laurel and Sara are oblivious to the small scene, and Tommy takes advantage of their ignorance. He quickly turns away from Roy and mumbles “We’ll see you later” to their table, while placing a hand on Oliver’s chest. But Oliver doesn’t move an inch – he’s fixated on Roy as he fidgets under Oliver’s gaze. At this point, Laurel and Sara are starting to catch on that this exchange might be something more.

“Oliver, come on. There’s nothing here,” Tommy quietly urges.

Clenching his jaw, Oliver takes one step back and turns robotically, giving Felicity a good look at him. His face is completely stoic, but his eyes are conveying something entirely different. It almost scares her how detached yet furious he appears. This is a side of Oliver Queen few have probably seen, and there’s a part of her wishing she hadn’t.

After an agonizing second, Tommy gently pushes Oliver forward to start moving along. Oliver doesn’t say another word to them as he steps away, but Tommy tries to soften the blow by nodding at them to acknowledge their presence, then chasing after his friend without another thought. To Roy’s credit, he bows his head and soldiers on, shakily coming to their table and pretending nothing occurred.

“Have you decided on what you want to eat?” His eyes keep flickering at Tommy and Oliver’s general direction – his bravado has disappeared, and his hands slightly tremble as he places their drinks on the table.

Sara glances at Laurel and Felicity before saying, “I think we might need a few more minutes. Thanks.”

Clearing his throat, Roy nods and quickly leaves them without another word. Once he’s moved far away, Sara loudly whispers, “What the hell was all that about? And when did you start dating Tommy Merlyn?!”

Affronted, Laurel scoffs and tries to brush it off. “I-I’m not dating Tommy Merlyn. Where did you even get the idea?”

“I’m not stupid. I saw the way he was looking at you, _and_ how you completely ignored McHottie, which is pretty hard to do if you ask me. C’mon, spill the details!” Sara props an elbow on the table and waits for Laurel to open up. Unable to keep a straight face, Laurel flushes and shyly looks down, to which Sara claps her hands in delight. “I knew it! Why didn’t I know sooner?”

“I . . . didn’t know how you, mom and dad would react to me dating Tommy. And anyway, it’s not like – we’re not getting married anytime soon. It’s just casual. It’s totally casual dating.”

Felicity snorts so loud that a waitress passing them by actually stops for a moment. “It’s definitely not casual. Sara, you should see her when she’s getting ready for a date. It’s practically a fashion show.”

She doesn’t know why Laurel is unwilling to admit that she and Tommy are more than casually dating. Felicity thought after the vacation Laurel was willing to be more open about her relationship with Tommy. Perhaps she’s afraid of what her family will think of Tommy, and Felicity doesn’t blame her. Laurel knows a side of Tommy that very few people are aware of, but obviously Sara and Mr. and Mrs. Lance don’t know him that way. If she truly cares about him, then she’ll open up. Eventually.

Sara laughs. “I don’t doubt it.” Addressing Laurel a little more seriously, she says, “Look, there’s no reason for you to be ashamed of dating Tommy. You know what you’re doing. Mom and dad have no reason not to trust your decisions. And if it _is_ that serious with you and Tommy, then I’m really happy for you.”

Softening after her remark, Laurel relaxes by tenfold and smiles. “Thanks, Sara. I appreciate it.”

Proud of Laurel for being honest with herself _and_ Sara, Felicity lets the two catch up on Tommy Merlyn and how amazing he is, while she throws in commentary when need be. Although Laurel and Sara may have forgotten the intense exchange between Roy, Tommy and Oliver, Felicity can’t stop thinking about it. There _has_ to be more than what they saw, and she intends to find out.

* * *

After a somewhat successful dinner, Felicity’s all tucked in bed and ready to shut the lights when Laurel softly opens her door and tiptoes in.

“What’s going on?” Felicity asks.

Waving her hand, Laurel sighs and sits at the edge of her bed. “Nothing serious. I wanted to talk to you about Sara’s situation.”

Frowning, Felicity sits up on her bed and puts on her glasses. “What about it?”

“I know she has a tendency to drop in unexpectedly, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to welcome her in every time.” Toying with the drawstrings on her pajamas, Laurel purses her lips and hesitates for a moment. “If she’s inconveniencing you, let me know. I promise I won’t be upset, and I’ll explain it to Sara without mentioning your name.”

This is unexpected. Although Laurel may seem to be annoyed by Sara’s random appearances, Felicity’s doesn’t mind Sara staying with them. Sara keeps to herself most of the time, and barely asks Felicity for any help or favors. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have a younger sibling, but Sara is as close as she’ll get to one, and Felicity really enjoys her company.

“Laurel, I don’t care when Sara drops in like this.” She scoots a little closer so she’s not saying anything loud enough for Sara to hear. “She’s pretty low maintenance, and it’s not like she lives her for months without paying rent.” Deciding now may be the best time to broach this topic, Felicity asks, “Why do you always feel like she’s bothering me?”

Clearly uncomfortable by Felicity’s question, Laurel shifts and sighs exasperatedly. “It’s just . . . she comes in and creates a storm, then leaves and thinks she can pick up right where she left off. Sara takes no responsibility for anything, and I’m always cleaning up her mess. It’s tiring.”

 _Oh_. Despite being extremely close to Laurel and the Lance family, Felicity doesn’t meddle in their personal affairs and actively tries not to be a part of it. She’s not blind, though – Felicity’s seen the way Quentin and Dinah, Laurel’s parents, have started drifting apart these past few years. And Sara _does_ have a habit of coming in then running away, blowing through their lives and leaving everyone else with the wreckage, thus making Laurel quietly resent Sara even more. Felicity never commented on Laurel’s familial relationships because it wasn’t in her place to do so, and it didn’t directly affect Felicity.

“Look, I . . . can see your relationship with Sara might not be the best thing in the world. I get it. But just because she’s a hindrance to you doesn’t mean it’s the same for me. I’m fine with her being here, but if you have an issue with her, then I understand.” Laurel is cautiously watching her, waiting for what she’ll say next. “If you don’t want her to come here anymore, I won’t prevent you from doing so.”

It’s quiet for a moment when abruptly Laurel gets teary-eyed, which alarms Felicity and causes her to grab a hold of Laurel’s hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Shaking her head, Laurel takes an unsteady breath. “I . . . feel guilty for not wanting to have her here, and at the same time I’m mad at myself for letting this get to me. We’re _sisters_. I love her.” Upset by her conflicted feelings, she glances down at her hands in humiliation. “But all I can think about is how much her presence is inconveniencing me.”

“Laurel,” Felicity begins, tightening her hold on Laurel’s hand. Ashamed by her confession, Laurel refuses to look at her. “It’s OK for you to feel this way.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It absolutely is. You’ve worked hard to get to where you’re at –”

“Unemployed with a useless law degree?”

Now _that_ stops Felicity in her tracks. “Well, if you put it that way ...”

Laurel scoffs and inhales deeply. “Besides, I have no room to talk. Dad helps me pay rent, so she has every reason to come by. I’ve barely started my life and I’m already trying to lay claim on it, _and_ prevent people from touching it.”

It’s true Laurel’s hardly started her official adult life and has consistently sacrificed herself for her family, but Felicity thinks Laurel may be feeling this way because of Tommy and his growing presence in her life. Whether or not Laurel admits it, Felicity feels he’s definitely here to stay, or at least make a lasting impression. It makes sense why Laurel doesn’t want her family to get involved and would prefer to devote most of her time and attention to Tommy, rather than worry about picking Sara up at a bar at three in the morning and her parents' conflict on how to handle her.

“Hey, listen,” she says softly. Hesitantly, Laurel looks at her with frustrated tears still brimming her eyes. “You think any of this has to do with Tommy and not wanting your family’s issues to get involved with your relationship?”

Laurel's eyes widen in shock.  “Oh my God. I think . . . you’re totally right.”

“See? There’s absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.”

Laurel looks off into the distance as if processing her thoughts. “I didn’t realize it until now. I mean, yeah, families can be a pain in the butt, but I hadn’t realized how much I want to be with Tommy. And how much I want this to be for _me_.”

She continues to space out as she sorts through her epiphany, but Felicity’s mind is reeling. Laurel admitted she wants to be with Tommy, and if that’s not a big step forward she doesn’t know what is. For so long Laurel held back on relationships and the possibility of love that she didn’t know she found it already.

Watching Laurel realize she’s falling for Tommy only causes Felicity to ache for a semblance of what she’s feeling, but the moment is easily swept away as fast as it came.

* * *

It’s Friday afternoon now, and Felicity’s anxious to go home even though she promised to hang out with McKenna with a night of greasy food and good beer. She asked Laurel if she wanted to join, but Laurel decided against it and wanted to work on job applications, something she’s neglected as of late.   

She’s heading back to work after picking up sushi from her favorite Japanese restaurant. After glancing at her phone and realizing she’s cutting it close, Felicity quickens her pace so she won’t be late for work. She’s nearly five blocks away from work, and with her heels she’s not sure if she’ll make it back on time.

Felicity’s in such a hurry that she doesn’t realize she’s in the same vicinity as the restaurant she visited with Laurel and Sara on Wednesday. Slowing her stride, Felicity’s inner detective itches to go inside and see if Roy is working to potentially ask him what’s between him and Oliver. Of course, whatever happened is none of her business, but their confrontation is a mystery that needs to be solved.

As luck would have it, Roy is standing outside working on the sign in front of the place. The restaurant is packed for lunch, but Roy seems in no hurry to finish his job. Slowly, Felicity nears Roy but keeps her distance – she hardly knows him and there’s a chance he may have forgotten her.

He looks up once she’s gotten a little closer and smiles instantly. “Hi again. Coming here for lunch? The fish tacos are amazing by the way.” His grin widens, showcasing his pearly whites. He’s wearing an all-black uniform with a fitted collared shirt – it looks good on him.

Felicity laughs softly and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “No, not today. I might come back for the tacos, though. They sound good.”

“I promise they’re delicious.” He’s amped up the charm factor now, which is a far cry from his scared demeanor after bumping into Oliver. “I could even get you a discount if you need one.”

“No, that’s OK. I already picked up my lunch.” She dangles the sushi bag in front of him.

Roy gasps. “That’s it, you’re not allowed in here ever again.”

He’s cute _and_ witty. “Now that’s just bad customer service.”

“Is it? Maybe _you’re_ the bad customer who betrayed the best restaurant in the world.  You’re breaking hearts everywhere, Miss . . .“ Roy shoves his hands in his pockets and shyly looks at her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Felicity. Felicity Smoak.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Felicity Smoak. I’m surprised you didn’t add 007 after that,” he teases.

“I wish I could, because that would mean I wouldn’t have to work at my extremely tiring job.”

Roy frowns. “Well that’s no fun. Where do you work?”

“Queen Consolidated as an IT consultant and researcher.” At the mention of QC Roy’s face goes from interested to neutral, and the change doesn’t escape Felicity’s notice. Now might be the perfect time to ask him some questions.

“That’s . . . great.”

He’s become a little sullen now, but Felicity intends to get her information. “So, have you known Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn? I don’t know, it’s just – the other night I thought maybe you knew him . . .” She chooses not to press anymore because it would undoubtedly be obvious she’s digging around.

Roy gives a nervous laugh and shuffles his feet. “You noticed that, huh?”

“It was kind of hard not to.”

He nods and chews the inside of his cheek. “I know the whole world loves Oliver, but he’s not who he claims to be.”

Her ears perk up because this is not what she thought she would hear. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Roy doesn’t explain further, but Felicity’s dying to know the juicy gossip. “If I were to guess, you’re probably not the only one who hasn’t had a good experience with Oliver.”

Curious at the new development, Roy tilts his head to the side and peers at her. “Oh? Would I be wrong in assuming you haven’t had a good experience?”

Her first instinct is to nod her head in agreement, but she hesitates for a moment. Although Oliver Queen isn’t her best friend and his manners are reprehensible, he hasn’t directly treated her horribly. Felicity doesn’t hate him but he’s certainly not her favorite person. There’s a part of her that feels immature and cold for seeking out dirt on Oliver. The incident at the restaurant is a mystery that needs to be solved, Felicity justifies, but is it worth stooping to a new low just to find a reason to hate Oliver?

“Not really.”

That seems to have sealed the deal because Roy steps closer, expression clouding. “I used to work for Oliver’s family, actually.”

“Oh, wow.” Felicity’s totally surprised by this reveal – the chances of meeting a former employee of the Queens are slim to none. “For how long?”

He runs an agitated hand through his hair and sighs. “My dad actually worked for them as a gardener. As a kid I would tag along with him. He was pretty close to Robert Queen, and when I was younger, Oliver and I would play all the time. Sometimes Tommy would join.

“My dad ended up getting heart problems and couldn’t work as a gardener, so I took over. In the months leading up to his death, Robert Queen watched out for me like my father would. Some people would say even more so than his actual son, but he cared for us both. A lot. When dad died Robert paid for the funeral expenses and promised the gardening job to me for as long as I wanted it. He even offered to pay for my college tuition, which he ended up doing.”

“That was really nice of him,” Felicity says softly. She can tell how much Robert Queen meant to Roy.

“Yeah, it was. But when Robert died . . . Oliver took it as an opportunity to flip the switch. He stopped paying for my college tuition with some excuse of not being able to afford it, which was clearly bullshit since he’s a billionaire. Then around the same time my mom got sick with cancer, but he . . . _fired_ me and left me with no job and zero money to pay for mom’s treatment. When she died I had no one left and Oliver could care less. After that, I kept working odd jobs to make ends meet.  Pretty crappy situation, right?”

For once in her life Felicity’s rendered speechless. What kind of man takes advantage of a person in need? Oliver let his jealousy ruin Roy’s life, and if that doesn’t make him the biggest piece of shit ever then she doesn’t know what does. She’s glad she got a chance to speak with Roy – whatever neutral feelings Felicity may have had for Oliver have absolutely vanished, because he’s proven himself undeserving of anything, particularly her attention. She can’t believe Oliver would do something like that, especially that he denied aid to Roy’s sick mother who could’ve benefitted from treatment. There’s a special place in hell for people who put greed above all else, and Oliver Queen takes the top spot.

“No, it’s not crappy. It’s _unfair_.”

As far as she’s concerned, Oliver Queen is nothing to her and deserves every horrible thing that happens to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Please share on Tumblr if you liked it!](http://hoodiesandcomputers.tumblr.com/post/141466723335/this-is-the-way-youll-remember-me-chapter-5)


End file.
